Right Here
by Your Sweet Escape
Summary: Threquel to It's Been Awhile and Everything Changes. A deal with a demon can only end in death, but what if there was no deal? Could a demon help Dean out of the goodness of its heart? Or does it have a hidden agenda?
1. TNT

**Supernatural really is the greatest show in the world! But it's not mine...I fact I chose to ignore occasionally. Hehe.**

**So, third and final fic of my Chase seris. I hope this one keeps up to par! And, as usual, no reviews no more chapters. I hate being mean like that, but as many have found, it's the only way to get feedback. And, good or bad, I want feedback!**

**Enjoy!**

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It was raining. He wish he could have been surprised, like the day it only rained for a few hours, but he wasn't.

There wasn't life anymore without rain. He had been driving for God knows how long, and he only stopped for death. For destruction. For the hope that no one would feel like he did.

Lost.

Alone.

Scared.

Two months had passed since…since….he gripped the steering wheel tighter. Two months had passed.

"Dean?"

"What?" He was brought out of his stupor by his younger brother's blatant observation.

"You just missed the turn for the motel."

Dean glanced over at Sam. He was tired, dirty, but he probably felt pretty cocky considering he more or less took out the most recent hell hound by himself. He cursed under his breath, if only he hadn't let himself get distracted he would have seen the damn wooden beam before it hit him over the head. _A big, bloody footprint is one hell of a distraction, though, _he thought as he pulled into a tiny parking lot.

"You're joking, right?" Sam gazed up at the florescent sign.

"No. Why?" Dean got out of the car and slammed the door behind him. The bar looked pretty decent, and the two girls who just walked in barely passed for clothed. Just what he needed.

"You got knocked out by a freaking half-ton wood support. It's entirely possibly you have a serious concussion. The only place you should be visiting is a hospital!"

"It was just another hunt, Sammy, I'm fine." Ignoring his brother, Dean confidently scaled the three cement steps leading into the bar.

"Dean, I want to sleep. Shower, too." Sam was still by the car.

"So go," tossing over the keys to the impala, Dean disappeared through the door.

He knew he was being a jerk, but couldn't Sammy understand that he wanted some time to relax and let all the alcohol he consumed burry whatever nightmares he would have had? Besides, there was his brother's nightly call to Madison, and Dean didn't want to overhear that.

"What'll you have?" the man behind the bar asked as Dean sat down on a cracked bar stool.

"Beer. And one for," he glanced around the room, his eyes settling on a pewter haired girl in the corner, "her."

The man glanced over, "Your funeral," and handed Dean a chilled bottle.

"Excuse me?" Dean eyed the bartender curiously.

"I didn't stutter. She comes in here every once in awhile. Always alone, but she never leaves that way."

"So?" Sipping his beer, Dean looked at the girl once more. She caught his eye and gave him a demure grin. He grinned right back.

"I don't see the men she leaves with again."

Dean turned back to him. "I think I'll take my chances."

"Like I said, your funeral." He handed the drink to a waitress.

Dean watched as the waitress made her way to the woman and explained who it was from. The woman caught Dean's eye again and raised the bottle in thanks before taking a long drink. Turning to grab his beer, Dean smiled sarcastically at the bartender. "I'll let you know how it goes?"

The bartender laughed. "I don't think so." He pointed at the exit.

Just in time to see a few strands of black hair and a denim covered leg step out the door, Dean turned again on his stool.

"She said to give you this." The timid voice of a waitress piped from his side. She handed Dean a torn strip of paper with a simple, but confusing message written on it in elegant script:

_Not Yet_

Well, what the fuck was that supposed to mean?

Still chuckling, the bartender interrupted his fuming. "You're better off, son."

Dean nodded in agreement. "Probably." Guzzling what was left of his beer, he asked, "Got anything stronger?"

"On the house," the bartender said handing him a glass filled with a dark liquid.

With a smile, Dean accepted the drink. And the next. And the next.

X

"Alright, boys," Dean rubbed his hands together, "Who's next?" He eyed the group that had congregated around the frayed pool table. "Anyone at all?"

"How much you gonna put up?" A tall, clearly country bred, man asked stepping up.

Dean smirked. "The thousand I've got so far."

"Idiot," the man said grabbing a pool stick, "I haven't lost a game in years."

"Hope I can brink back some old memories, then." Dean took a swig of his drink and lined up his first shot. The balls seemed to roll from one side to the other, but Dean quickly shook his head and heard the satisfying click of five balls rolling into five different pockets. Even drunk he still had it. Three shots later, he finally backed away from the table. "Looking pretty lost, isn't it?" he asked mockingly.

The man frowned and took his turn. The shining, white ball slid past its colored counter parts and into a corner pocket. "It's fixed," the man accused belligerently, "You messed with it."

"Dude," Dean scoffed, "Don't blame your inability to perform on me."

"What'd you say, boy?" The man dropped the slender wooden stick onto the felt table.

"You heard me." Dean glared at him. The man wasn't much older than Dean, certainly not old enough to call him boy.

"You'd better repeat yourself." The man lightly pushed Dean back with a hand to his shoulder.

With a signature grin, Dean replied, "My pleasure," and he promptly punched the man square in the jaw.

The man fell back into the crowd. "Son of a bitch!" he exclaimed rubbing the side of his face. With his upper lip curled, the man ran for Dean.

Laughing at the man's drunken path, Dean quickly dodged the lunge and when the man turned, surprised, he hit him again. This time the man went down hard, flat out on the pool table. Smirking, Dean finished the last sip of his beer. "I'm going," he said to the approaching security. With a final salute to the crowd, Dean grabbed his jacket and sauntered out the door. Damn, Des Moines was cold. He tightened the leather around his frame. Now where was his cell phone?

He slowly walked out of the parking lot rummaging in his pockets for the evasive piece of titanium. "Gotcha," he muttered feeling the cold bar in his grasp. As he slid the phone out he looked up and glanced around. He was in the middle of the road. Chuckling to himself, he briefly gave thanks that no cars were coming. Stepping to the side, his gaze floated to a patch of bright, yellow flowers. He looked from the flowers to the road, something not quiet connecting in his brain. His fingers involuntarily began tapping on his thigh. Something was off. Something…he looked over his shoulder. Another road. Wait. To his side was a road. Behind him was a road. Yellow flowers where the roads crossed. Crossed. An idea slowly flared to life in his head.

He was standing in the middle of a crossroads.

XxXxX

_"Uncle Sam!" A tiny girl wound her arms around his legs. "Uncle Sammy's here!" She yelled behind her. _

_Sam looked up into the decorated foyer of the house. Oddly enough, the extra space and lofty ceilings made the place feel cozier than it should. He grinned. _

_"Hey," he said good-naturedly, "What's with the Sammy?" _

_The girl giggled and grabbed his hand. "Adele made a big mess," she said with bright eyes. "A big one, and mommy had to clean it up!" There was a skip in her step. "I helped!" _

_Suddenly, a growl echoed form behind them and the little girl squeaked as her mirror image pounced, pushing her into the wall. An ornate mirror shook before crashing to the floor._

_"Girls!" a soft voice carried from the next room. A slender woman with long, brunette curls stepped into the hall. "What have I told you!" _

_"Not in the house," the girls chorused together. _

_She nodded. "Now go play outside while Uncle Sam and I clean this up." The two girls smiled widely and ran out of the room._

_"Sam!" the woman enveloped him in a warm hug. "Dean's downstairs trying to fix the latest catastrophe." She frowned at the mirror. "Well, second latest." _

_"Chase. Who's up there?" Dean's spiked head poked out from a side door. "Uncle Sammy!" He grinned maliciously. "It's about time, dude!" _

_"So that's where she got it," Sam replied. _

_"Dinner's ready, you two." Chase said quickly cleaning up the broken glass. "I never liked that old thing, anyway." She headed for the kitchen._

_"Beer?" Dean asked following her. _

_"Sure." Sam trailed after his brother. When he reached the polished kitchen, he saw Dean, Chase, and the children already settled around the dinning table in the adjoining room. He leaned against the door frame for a second, savoring Dean's happiness._

_"They make a pretty picture, don't they, Sammy?" A cold hand gripped his shoulder, and Sam spun around coming face to face with his yellow-eyed nightmare._

Sam shot out of bed breathing hard and clutching his head. He hated these dreams more than anything in the world, but a small part of his was at least consoled that the dream wasn't about anything true. There was no way Chase and Dean would be living in an oversized mansion with two runts. No way. Still, his nightmare left him disturbed, and knowing he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep, he pulled on his shirt and reached to the bedside table for the TV guide and remote. His hand hesitated, remembering his brother in the next bed. Sam glanced over, but frowned when he saw the bed empty. "Dammit, Dean," he cursed pulling on his shoes. Everything he had in his California bank account was betting that Dean was passed out on the bar steps. It wouldn't be the first time he was utterly trashed this month.

Sam sighed. Something had to be done. Anything to get his brother out of his current funk. Grabbing a jacket that was thrown over the single chair in the room and the keys to the impala, Sam headed back in the direction of the run down tavern. Hopefully Dean would be waiting in the parking lot for him instead of wondering the streets.


	2. InAGaddaDaVida

**What, Mr. Kripke? You want to sell me the rights to the show? Why, I don't know what to say! Wait a second, is that the beeping of my alram clock? Disclaimer...ugh.**

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The wet earth felt good between Dean's fingers. Humming Metallica's _Some Kind Of Monster, _Dean proceeded to dig up the tin box he knew was buried under a few thin layers of dirt. Eruoflowers never lied. 

"Bingo," he muttered unearthing a badly rusted box from the hole he had dug in the mud. Flipping open the top, he pulled out his slim id and traded it for the one already in the box. "Gerry Thurmman, you poor bastard," he said reading the name on the picture before flinging it into the dirt. "Dean Winchester, you smart bastard," he said loudly, reburying the box.

When the task was done, he patted the top with an out of place fondness, but he supposed that was the alcohol acting up. He stretched his back as he stood, it had taken awhile to dig up and burry that damned box. Freaking demon better show up soon, or he was leaving. Or at lest getting another drink.

"Dean Winchester." A raven haired woman lighted in front of him. "Whatever do I owe the pleasure?" She had some kind of foreign accent, and she held herself with enough dignity to scream royalty. Great.

"I want something," he said getting to the point.

"They all do," she replied solemnly. She put a hand to her chin. "Let me guess. Your father? Mother? Darling Jessica for your brother?" Laughing at his hard look, she answered herself. "No. None of those." Twirling in her diaphanous, black skirt she waltzed around him. "I know!" She stopped in front of him. "You want the power to win?"

"You can give me that?" Dean asked, momentarily sidetracked.

"No," she giggled, "I just wanted to see the look on your face."

"Bitch," he seethed.

"Watch your language," she said, her lips very close to his own. Just as fast as she moved to him, she danced away. "Do tell what you summoned me for."

"Her name's Chastity."

"Her?" The demon eyed him incredulously. "I knew you were daft, Dean, but a girl?"

"She's not just a girl," Dean tried to defend. "She died about two months ago."

"Oh." She thought a moment. "And I believe you burned the body. Am I wrong?"

"No." Dean answered softly.

'Well," she twirled again. "It is going to be a dear expense."

"I want ten years."

The demon laughed. "One."

"Nine."

"Two."

"Eight."

"Three."

"Seven."

"Three."

"Six."

"I'll give you three years, love."

Dean gritted his teeth. "Fine."

"So we have a deal?" The demon asked with an amused grin.

"We have a deal."

"Splendid!" she exclaimed. Stepping to him she stood on tip-toe to place a heavy kiss on his mouth. Yet, the second her lips touched his, an enormous volt of electricity shoved her back onto her dainty ass.

"Hmm. That was new," Dean mused.

"You pathetic mortal!" the demon all but screamed. "You dirty liar!"

"Whoa," Dean held up his hands. "Slow down, honey."

"You knew that would happen," she shrieked. "You knew!"

"Knew what?" Dean watched as the demon pushed itself up and dusted off its clothes. What had just happened.

"You're claimed!" she hissed. "Your filthy soul is claimed!" She stalked to the center of the road, hair flying around her head in a demonic halo. "Damn you for thinking you could kill me!"

"Kill you?" What was she talking about?

"If I claim a soul that's already spoken for I'm as good as dead," her accent wasn't so formal anymore. "You knew. You knew, and you are going to pay for it!" With wild eyes she raised her hands to the darkened sky.

"He didn't know." A voice cut through the stillness.

The demon dropped her hands and eyed the darkness.

"And if you kill him unfairly your fate will be bound with his." Dean saw the woman from the bar step out of the shadows.

"Roxanne. I should have known you would be lurking about." The demon moved back towards Dean. "What do you know about his situation?"

"Whose soul claimed yours?" Roxanne looked at him.

"What…I…no one's," Dean stammered in response, "What are you talking about?"

"Blood for blood. Who did it?" The woman kept probing.

Blood for blood. She had said that. "I, um…"

Roxanne shook her head. "Let it go, Emma. You can't have this one."

"Oh?" The crossroads demon shook her head angrily. "And I'm supposed to leave him for you? I think not." Emma crossed her arms.

"Swallow your pride for once," Roxanne told the woman, completely ignoring Dean. "You can't break him. There's nothing here for you."

Emma's eyes narrowed. "Tread carefully, Roxanne." And in a black haze, she was gone.

With her hands on her hips, Roxanne eyed Dean. "You can call me Rox," she said before striding off.

It took a second for Dean's actions to catch up with his thoughts. "Hey," he yelled after her, "Wait!"

"What?" Rox asked irritably.

"Who are you?" Dean caught up with her.

"You're not ready to know yet."

"I'm damn ready to know, and if you want to live, you'll tell me," Dean threatened.

She smirked. "You're drunk."

"You underestimate me."

"Maybe." She eyed him for a second. Before shrugging. "I'm not in league with Emma, if that's what you're thinking."

"Then how do you know her?" Dean leaned against a car in the parking lot.

"I take on the clientele that she can't."

"What's that mean?"

Rox's smirk grew more prominent. "I can bring your girl back from the dead. Deal free."

Dean stared at her. How in Lucifer's name did she have that kind of power? "How can you do it?"

"Simple really," Rox commented as she wound her long hair around her index finger. "For me anyway."

"What would I have to do?"

"Convince me to do it, first off."

"Then?"

Rox grinned evilly. "There's a journey you must take. In your case though, it might be easier. She can help you," she said gazing into the dark. "Yes, she can help you. She has already played the majority of her part."

"Do it." Dean commanded. He could barely contain the emotion surging through him. She could bring her back. She would be alive. It would be a second chance, and this time he wouldn't screw up.

"I'm not your servant, Dean." She eyed him a moment, "But it would be in better interest to help you." She tapped a manicured nail on her lips. "Yes. Yes it would be in better interest."

"So do it." Dean crossed his arms.

"You should first know that it hurts to come back from the dead," her eyes took on a blackened hue, "Just as it hurts to bring someone back from the dead."

"So you'll suffer a little pain. Big deal." He snapped back.

"No, you'll be the one to suffer if it comes to it."

"Fine." He had been in pain before. He could take it. For her, he could take anything.

"The journey is long. And it is hard." Rox was completely lost. Eyes as black as oil spills detailed every sentence she said. "There will be a path of pins, and there will be a path of needles. You will walk on pins and your feet will bleed. You will walk on needles and your feet will bleed. They will bleed red, like the charms you wear. And they will hurt. It hurts to bring someone back from the dead." A red ribbon snaked from her hand and floated in the breeze. Dean reached for it, but she snatched it out of his grasp.

"You must be brave for her," Rox continued. "She has been in the woods. It has been dark and cold, close and damp. She has been there a long time, and on foot. When she comes out, flashing lights and bright colors will be confusing to her. She won't respond to them. Her eyes will not focus, and she will not turn her head. She will not understand how to leave, you must explain to her how to be in the world outside the woods, for the woods have been the only real place for so long. That is why she must wear bright colors." Two more ribbons, both pink, joined the red one. "You will be her torch. And your feet will still bleed. As you walk with her the dead may drink the blood and be able to speak with you, but they will not come back with you. Do not let her drink the blood.

"You will travel for a long time. You must stay on the path, and you cannot pick the flowers," her eyes flared at the statement and Dean backed up a step, "You may ask for help. You will ask the sun and you will ask the moon, but neither will aid. The moon in unable and the sun is unwilling. Hecate will have heard your beloved scream, and she will tell you where. You may ask an old woman who sits by the road. She mumbles to herself, and if you pass by without a word she will reveal herself to be a witch and eat you in two bites. But converse with her and share an apple and she will give you guidance. Do not throw stones at the ravens. Cats are never up to any good. You may ask wolves for help, but do not believe them. They do not think carefully. They do not think as we do."

He raised his eyebrows. Wolves.

"You will find her in outer darkness waiting for you in unknowing sleep. She will be covered with dust, and think she is surrounded by others that sleep as she sleeps. She will shine with fever and believe herself to be surrounded by little men. Perhaps she will see them in white coats. She does not dream.

"And how will you recognize her? Her face will be as snow, her hair pulled back. You will sit down next to her and take her hand. She is not there. You can see her. You can touch her. You can smell her. But she is not there. Her face carries a particular expression.

"She is bleeding. She is dying. She is dead. She is in chains as thin as the charm you must find."

Dean was slowly becoming caught up in Rox's voice. He could almost see his journey, see the men, see her. And she was dead. She was.

"The charm is your memories, your time. She must have it always." Rox's eyes were lightening. "You will see her easily. She looks as you look. A warrior-queen. Lean. Muscles. Scars. She looks as you, only dead. And you will kiss her. You will kiss her, and you must find the charm in her skin. As you remove it, stop the bleeding with your mouth, but don't let her taste your blood. She hates knives, you must use a needle. You may use on from your own skin as it has been there so long. It will hurt, so you must paint your face to mask the pain. You must sing. Music will help her remember.

"Lie down next to her very carefully. Wrap your arms around her. She will not hug you back. Rest your head on your shoulder. You will have to go where she is. It might hurt. It will hurt.

"You can cry. It won't help." Rox's eyes took on their normal color, but before Dean could say anything she continued her explanation. "She will turn her head to look at you. Call her name. She will recognize you and smile. She is so tired. And she hurts. She hurts so much. She is confused. She doesn't know where she is. She won't thank you. She will blink and sit up." Rox took a steadying breath. "Take her by the hand. Hold her tightly. Be her torch. Do not worry if she doesn't talk at first. Voices take a long time to come back. Lead her out. Don't look back.." With a faltering breath, Rox's eyes fully closed and the girl slumped to the ground.

"Rox?" Dean called. "Rox!"

"With another shuddering breath, she sat up. "It's done."

"She's alive?" Dean asked frantically searching for the familiar shape.

"It's done. You will find her soon enough." She glanced down at her hand. You must wear the one. Her the two as well as the charm. Do not forget the charm. Without either she can be dragged back into death.

Dean nodded. "God save me," he muttered taking the ribbons.

Rox smiled. "He's not listening. He's too busy," she whispered letting the thin strands of satin slide through her fingers. Her profile was suddenly illuminated by familiar headlights. "You're walking on pins and needles, Dean. Tread carefully." And then she was gone.

"Dean!" The car had stopped in front on him. "Dean!" Sam yelled again, slamming the black door behind him.

Holding up a hand to shield himself against the bright headlights and fingering the three strands of frill, Dean tried to make sense of what happened.

She had said it was done.

Chase was alive.

She was alive somewhere and he would find her.

Suddenly, his stomach convulsed. "Sam," he said doubled over, "don't let me puke in the car."

XxXxX

It was darker than before. She could tell that much. And a buzzing. There was a buzzing in her ear. But it was dark. Darker than before.


	3. Come Back Down

**One day, I'm going to write a song. And then, everyone will know about the tragedy that is me not owning the Winchesters.**

**Thanks for reading everyone! It makes me happy to see all the numbers go up!**

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He could handle wendigos. Poltergeists, vampires, black dogs, demi-gods, he could handle all those. But throwing up? Ralphing? Up-chucking? Give him a pissed pagan god any day.

Dean clutched a hand over his mouth and bolted out of the car. He would not get sick, he would not get sick… Again, his stomach convulsed. Yeah, he was gonna be sick.

Sam snickered as he unlocked the door of the newest oldest motel.

"Shove it up your ass, Sam," Dean hissed pushing past him and feeling his way to one of the beds. Damn, it was dark. He let out a small groan of relief as he settled into the springs. He heard Sam settle onto the other bed, some idiot bug flying into the window, and the hum of a broken vent. All familiar, all oddly comforting, and absolutely nothing to disturb his much needed sleep. Or the throbbing hangover that was already in the making.

"Dean, is that Black Sabbath?" Sam asked quietly.

"What?" Okay. A little brother to disturb his sleep.

"Are you humming Black Sabbath?"

"No." Even better. A little brother that was hearing things.

"Then what are you humming?" Sam persisted.

Dean sighed noisily through his lips, "I'm not humming, Sammy."

The springs in Sam's bed groaned in protest as he rolled out of it. "Something is."

Immediately on alert, Dean reached under the pillow for his knife and listened. Sure enough, something was humming. But it wasn't Black Sabbath. And it was faint. Like a radio station slowly tuning out or the last chords on a guitar. He gripped the knife tightly in his fist and slowly counted to three. On two, the lights flickered on, and two sets of trained eyes darted around the room.

Dean saw her first. A girl, or at least he thought it was a girl, was hunched in the corner with her knees pulled tight against her chest and her forehead resting on them. The girl was covered in what looked like ashes. The only color other than a dusky grey that showed through was the girl's skin. It was whiter than any glimpse of ever-after Dean had seen. Her once elegant dress was in tatters around her legs, and her ash dusted black hair was pulled back and held in place by two silver clips.

She was barefoot, and the bottoms of her feet looked slightly burned, that is, if dust could sear. And she was humming. Some faint, unfamiliar lullaby was emerging from the corner of slivered lips he could see.

"Dean?" Sam asked apprehensively, fingers tightening and loosening their grip on his gun.

Dean shook his head, and, still holding his knife, slowly approached the girl. "Hey," he said softly, "are you alright?"

She didn't say anything, just kept humming.

"Is that sulfur around her?" Sam asked pointing at a thin powder that enclosed the small corner.

Reaching out, Dean smeared his fingers through the residue and took a tentative sniff. Rotten eggs. Yup. "Sulfur," he affirmed.

"You don't think…" Sam eased next to his brother. "_Christo,_" he said. Nothing happened.

"Not a demon, Sammy." Dean edged closer to her. Slowly, he reached out and took her hand. It was freezing, and whatever dust was scattered on it readily came off onto his own hands. The girl didn't even look up, but her humming stopped. "We're not going to hurt you," he told her quietly. "I'm Dean, and this is my brother Sam."

"Shh." Her voice was so quiet, Dean had to lean in to hear. He really wasn't sure she actually spoke.

"Do you have a name?"

"Dean," Sam warned quietly.

He brushed the alarm off, and gently tugged the girl's arm in hopes she would face him, but she didn't even make any notice.

"We should call a hospital."

"And tell them what?" Dean snapped, "That we found some chic in our room covered in ashes and mute? Oh, yeah, doc, don't mind the sulfur. God, Sam!"

Sam shook his head. "We don't know who or what she is, and we don't know what's wrong with her. We don't know what to do, Dean!"

"Shh," the girl breathed again, her head slightly tilting up.

She did look sick to Dean. Like she had a fever or something. Dean lightly caught her chin in his hand and moved her face towards him. "Hey," he said again, trying to get her to open her eyes and look at him. "Can you tell me what happened to you?"

The girl's eyes slowly opened. They were hazel, but when she glanced up at him they flashed yellow.

"Chase." He knew he was gawking, but it was her! It had to be her. The dust, the fever, not talking…it all fit with what Rox had said. And her eyes. Those were her eyes!

"Dean?" Sam tried to keep the skepticism out of his voice.

"Chase," Dean whispered again.

She smiled, and moved her hand to the side of his face leaving a grey trail where her fingers touched. "Shh," she sighed a third time as Dean started to open his mouth.

Dean nodded and turned to his brother. "Go get her water and food. And clothes. She needs something other than that dress."

"Please tell me you're not seriously entertaining this idea," Sam said crossing his arms. "Chase is dead, Dean. She's not coming back."

"Sam," Dean hissed as Chase looked up at him with a face full of confusion. "Go get food, water, and something for her to wear."

"Dean-"

"Now!" Dean commanded, the perfect imitation of his father.

Sam frowned at both Dean and the girl before storming out the door.

"You're not dead," Dean assured catching hint of the fear that was slowly filling Chase's head.

She looked at him questioningly, as if to ask what kind of idiot thing he did.

"How about we get off the floor?" he asked standing up and holding a hand out to her. Taking his hand, Chase allowed herself to be pulled up, but fell right back down not one second later. "Guess it's going to take a little getting used to," Dean muttered helping her up again. This time he looped an arm around her waist before she fell, and they slowly made it to the edge of a bed where both practically fell down. "You do know who I am, right?" he asked.

Chase nodded and smiled, reaching to touch his hand.

"And Sam, you know him?"

This time the nod was a little hesitant.

"Do the names Lilly, Chris, Kist, and Madison ring a bell?"

Barely non-existent, her nod was prolonged and slow.

He took a breath, "And what happened, do you remember anything about Will, or Alice, or the penangalang?"

She shook her head no.

"Good," he sighed in relief, "You don't need to remember that."

Fingering the scarlet ribbon that he had wound into his usual thin, black bracelets, Chase refused to meet his eye.

"You know, this is like some twisted scene in _The Little Mermaid_," Dean remarked. "You've never seen that movie?" he asked when Chase gave him a bemused glance. "We lived in Michigan for about a month, and we had this neighbor that Dad left us with all the time. I don't know why. He didn't trust anybody. But anyway, she had a daughter about Sam's age, he was three at the time, and the girl was obsessed with that movie. Well, the mermaid is in love with this prince and she switches her voice to be human. Can't talk until he kisses her."

Chase raised an eyebrow and shook her head.

"Hey, not saying it would work with you, but…" he grinned.

Still shaking her head, Chase hesitantly rose and examined the ash on her arms. She started to dust it off, but the thick dirt simply ground deeper into her skin and the fabric of the dress Dean now recognized as the one she was burned in.

"You want a shower or something? I'm sure that's uncomfortable." He pointed to the tiny bathroom.

With a small smile, Chase headed into the small room, soundlessly shutting the door behind her.

A miniscule grin twitched at the edge of his lips. She was alive. She was here. He wasn't going to let anything change that. When he heard the water start, his grin became full-fledged. Chase was alive. Alive. He never thought a five letter word would sound so good!

"I hope you're freaking happy, Dean." Sam burst into the room and let the door slam shut behind him. "Not only do we have a magically appearing girl in our room, but I almost got caught stealing clothes! Women's clothes."

Laughing so hard he nearly choked, Dean grabbed onto the back of a chair, "And the FBI think I'm the criminal!"

"This isn't funny!" Sam retorted. He glanced around the room. "Where is she anyway?"

"Chase is in the shower. That dust crap was getting everywhere."

"Dean."

"What?"

"That's not Chase." Sam lowered his voice. "Chase is dead."

Dean scowled, "That's where you're wrong, Sammy. She was dead. She's not anymore." He stood up and began rummaging through the bag of clothes and food Sam had brought back.

"Okay, explain how she got here." Sam took Dean's place on the bed. "We burned her body. She didn't just get up and hitch hike from Pennsylvania to Iowa."

"I don't know exactly what happened." Dean reluctantly admitted, "One second this crossroads bitch was threatening homicide, and the next some chic named Roxanne was telling me she could do the same thing for free."

"Kill you?"

"Bring Chase back."

"Wait," Sam put a hand to his head, "You made a deal with a crossroads demon? Dean, are you insane? Do you want to die!?"

"No, Sam! No to all three. I didn't make a deal with a damn demon, okay? Don't get your panties twisted." He pulled out a pair of sweats with 'Iowa State' printed on the hip and a green tank-top. Under that was a bottle of water from a vending machine and some kind of sandwich.

"So how the hell is she here? Wait," he laughed, "Theoretically, how the hell is she here?"

"Theoretically?"

"That's not Chase, Dean."

XxXxX

The steam from the shower billowed up to the water stained ceiling. She watched as the tiny cracks in the plaster seemed to swell with each drop of moisture that they captured. It was so dirty here, not like where she was. Frowning, she tried to recall something…anything…that would make sense.

She was here. Well, that wasn't much help. At least twenty other people were here. And they were all sleeping except for the two men. Dean. Dean and…and who? But they were loud. Surely everyone else would wake up with they way they were yelling at each other! Sleep was a nice idea. She was exhausted, and the warm water did nothing to wake her up. Maybe she should switch the knob to cold? No, she wanted to be warm. She liked warm.

What had the one said? Dead. Was she dead? Was this death? It couldn't be, she argued with herself. Death would be painful. Or at least uncomfortable. But Dean hadn't done anything to make her feel that way. He couldn't. She…she what?

She felt funny. Something was off. Very off. And it was warm, and she was so tired, but she was clean. The porcelain of the bathtub was black now, but she was clean. And someone was yelling. Who was yelling?

Switching off the water, she reached for a threadbare towel that hung from a rack beside the shower. With it securely wrapped around her, she hesitantly opened the door that lead to the bigger room. Someone needed to tell the men that they were going to wake everyone up.

"I know what I'm doing!" Dean yelled.

"You were drunk, Dean!" The second man was much louder. "You didn't know which direction the wind was blowing! Hell, I think you're drunk now!"

"You know, Sam, I'm sick and tired of arguing this with you. It's her if you think so or not!"

Sam. Chase nodded. That was his name. Dean and Sam.

"She's dead, Dean. Dead! We burned the body! There's nothing for her to come back to!"

Chase frowned at his volume. They were all going to wake up, and it would be her fault. Everything was her fault. "Shh," she tried to interrupt.

"But she did! She's here! Alive! Screw how it happened, Sam, it happened!" Dean said wildly.

"Are you listening to yourself?" Sam asked.

"Don't even," Dean replied, "I lost her once, and I'm not going to do it again!"

"Shh," she tried again, wishing she knew what else to do.

Sam crossed his arms. "It's not possible. Not without some kind of payment, or curse, or ritual. And you're claiming you haven't done anything. It doesn't make sense."

"I'll give you that, but she's here. Believe it or not." Dean ended the argument, and Chase sighed in relief. No one had woken up. Sensing a third person, Dean turned to her. "You look better," he said grinning.

Sam's head snapped up and his eyes widened. Dean snickered at his expression and handed Chase the clothes.

Nodding her thanks, Chase headed back into the bathroom.

"Told you," she heard Dean say before she shut the door.

XxXxX

Sam leaned back on his bed. This was weird. And not their normal weird.

"I told you it was her," Dean said again collapsing onto his bed. "I told you."

Toying with a hole in his sheet, Sam played the fact back and forth in his head. Chase was alive. Deal free. He didn't like it. The bathroom door squeaked open. He watched Chase slowly shuffle out of the tiny, steamy room to Dean. She looked different. Unhealthy. Sam wondered if she'd ever talk. And if she did, what she'd say.

Dean opened his arm to her, and Chase pressed herself into his side. It amazed Sam how affectionate Dean was being as he carefully pulled the sheet to her chin and pulled her closer to him.

Something had to give. Sam knew, regardless of if his brother would remember or not, what's dead should stay dead. There was going to be a consequence to this.

She shouldn't be alive.

She should have stayed dead.


	4. Super Massive Black Hole

* * *

Sam's eyes flew open and quickly became filled with the sweat that was pouring down his face. Flashes of his most recent nightmare still flooded his mind. Images of torture and decay in some small room, people running, his brother dying as he clutched a pink blanket, and Chase stepping into fire all darted across his subconscious. This was starting to get ridiculous. Putting his head in his hands, he took a steadying breath. As the quiet re-entered the tiny room, Sam felt a light weight land on his shoulder. He jumped, and reached for the non-existent weapon under his pillow.

Yet, looking up, he saw Chase's familiar eyes watching him, her hand still on his shoulder. The hazel orbs were filled with concern, as if she had witnessed everything he had dreamt in the past few hours.

"I'm alright," he told her giving her a half-smile. "Really. I'm kind of used to it by now anyway."

Chase just looked at him as she failed to stop the frown that tugged at the corner of her mouth.

Her face was different, Sam decided. Older somehow, yet younger. Either way, she wasn't the same.

"Really, you should get back to bed," he tried again. "I'm sure we'll have a long day tomorrow."

Nodding, Chase turned away toward the other bed. Sam watched as she crawled back in beside Dean, and as his brother reflexively wrapped his arms back around her. Before her eyes closed, they locked with Sam's.

She knew something. Something big.

XxXxX

Dean blearily opened his eyes to see Sam towering above him. "What do you want?" he asked.

"I'm going to get breakfast," Sam explained, "I'll get enough for her, but you need to figure out if she'll be okay on regular food."

"What?" Dean scratched his head. It was way too early to think.

"Does she still need to hunt, Dean. That's what." He stood and shrugged into his jacket. "I'll be back in about an hour. The closest town's thirty minutes away." He walked out the door mumbling to himself.

Rubbing his eyes, Dean looked beside him. Chase was curled in a ball and pressed into his side. Her dark hair fell across his arm, and he brushed it back to see her face. It was so pale, and so still, that he could swear it was made of marble. But it wasn't. Her brow wrinkled at his touch, and her eyes fluttered open. As the sleep cleared from her expression she let out a quiet gasp and jumped off the bed.

"Hey," Dean said, surprised. He sat up, but as he stood, Chase backed farther from him. "It's alright," he tried to calm, "you're okay."

Watching him with her back against the wall, Chase's hand formed a tight fist.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said holding out his hands. "You're okay here. You're safe."

Chase's erratic breathing slowed, and with a big sigh, she returned to Dean's side.

He draped an arm around her shoulders, and pulled her closer to him when she didn't shy away. "You're safe," he assured her again.

"Mmhmm," Chase mumbled in response. After a few seconds of silence, Chase's breathing had evened out.

"You're asleep again," Dean said quietly. "Good. Good, you should sleep." Reclining against the headboard, Dean tried to figure out what to do. They couldn't take her on a hunt right now, and he certainly wasn't going to leave without her, but where could they go? Even all the credit cards he had stashed in the glove box of the impala couldn't hold them forever, and who knew how long it would take Chase to come back around.

And she needed someone that could help her when he couldn't. Someone like…like…a mom. A mom? Where did that come from? Well, she was kinda like a kid. In a way. A weird way. Dean sighed. She did need someone to take care of her. Someone other than him. Especially when he and Sam were away. Now what moms did he know?

There was Ellen, but no way was Chase setting foot in the roadhouse. Not with all those hunters who would hang a loup garou's pelt from the wall. He could go find Jo. She wasn't a mom, but she was a girl. And Chase was a girl. And they would probably end up killing each other. Damn, this was hard.

Who else was there? He could take her back to Pennsylvania, but something kept him away from that idea. Or she could go back to South Carolina, but then there was that werewolf to deal with. Tucker? Something like that. Who knew when he'd be back. It would be so much easier if she had had a permanent home.

Home. Kansas. Missouri. She could help. Granted, Dean did jump at the idea of seeing her again, but if it would help Chase…

"There's a freaking diner in the basement of the motel!" Sam barged in carrying a big tray of food. "In the basement. Of a motel!" He laughed, "It just keeps getting weirder and weirder."

"We're going to Kansas," Dean stated shifting himself out of the bed.

"What?" Sam asked with a full mouth.

"We're going home."

XxXxX

Rox twisted her silvery hair into a high ponytail. Glancing at her reflection in a tiny, compact mirror, she tilted her head to the side. The dim light of the bar made the metallic strands look black. Mentally shrugging her shoulders, she snapped the compact closed and leaned back in her chair. She was sick of bars. There was rarely business in or near them. Well, the ones without the crossroads anyway, but it was even more infrequent that she got Emma's spoils. The Winchester boy had been a treat indeed, and it certainly helped that said treat had been cooked, filleted, and brought to her on a silver platter. Giggling to herself, Rox surveyed the locals Kentucky had to offer.

"Hard at work I see," a stately voice cut in.

Her eyes flickered to a man that was clearly comfortable among the squalor the bar had to offer. "Well look who decided to visit from hell. Getting too hot down there again? Higher ups pissed because they're still being hunted? Or did you just miss me?" She flashed a catty grin.

"Ah, Roxanne. You haven't changed in the few centuries I've known you." He took a seat next to her.

"You expect me to?" She watched him run a finger around the rim of her empty glass. When he looked up, his yellow eyes clearly stated he was done with small talk. "What can I do for you?" She asked wearily.

He smiled, "I've come for a little information, actually. You see, I've been hearing rumors."

"Rumors?" She took a long drink of a beer that had just been placed in front of her.

"Yes, rumors. It's been going around that you recently catered to a man with the name of Winchester."

"Yeah, I met your boy. Gotta say, I wasn't expecting him to be so weak. Attractive? Yes. Weak? No." She scribbled her coined expression on a slip of paper and handed to the waitress. "Give that to him?" she asked, gesturing to the man that had bought her the drink.

"Yes, well." He cleared his throat, "what I want to know is why. You don't help those that can't help you."

"You taught me well." Rox commented, "And he can help me, or, rather, the girl can."

"So the rumors are true?" He leaned his elbows on the table. "Both of them?"

"They're not rumors," she snapped, "I started them."

He sat back, delighted. "My prized seer. I have trained you well!"

"I lasted longer than my sister, didn't I?" She finished the beer, and glanced up at her soon to be victim, "Walk and talk?" The yellow eyed demon nodded, and the pair rose. "Now, I know you didn't materialize to confirm nasty gossip," Rox continued, "so what do you want out of it?"

"Half. You get the seer."

"And you get?"

"There's a certain prophecy I'm concerned with. I'd like to stop it form coming true."

"You mean you're willing to wait for this 'prophecy' to mature because you want to mold it to help your little war cause?"

"I can't very well have the werewolves against me, now can I? It should be easy enough to rid the earth of a pebble."

Rox laughed, "Fine. You get half. Just because I want to see if you're patient enough."

Content, the demon rubbed his hands together. "Lovely. I have to ask though, what are you going to do with the psychic's other abilities. Foresight isn't the only thing that will grow."

"You underestimate me," Rox leaned against a tree, "I'm a good teacher. Pretty soon the future will be the only thing the younger one sees. I plan on channeling the other abilities into some sort of destructive behavior. A girl can't carry on forever, you know. In a few centuries I'd like to retire, and I'll be able to relax so much better if I know another seer is in my place."

"Why don't you just bring back your sister?" The demon sneered.

"Cassandra was a dolt."

"No, she was expendable."

"She got herself ripped to shreds."

"Yes. Expendable."

Rox shook her head. "Make sure you don't destroy my half of the take when you get yours. Or let it see you kill what little family it has, I don't want my little clairvoyant tainted."

"It's a little late for that, don't you think?" The demon laughed, "But I'll keep it clean."

"See you soon, then." Rox shook his hand.

The demon nodded once and disappeared.

"Hey, baby," a drunken man came into the woods after her. "I got your little note. Whadda 'ya mean, not yet?"

Rox grinned, tonight was going to be a good night.


	5. Fully Alive

* * *

Welcome to Kansas.

The sign might as well screamed 'Welcome home, Dean. Let's make your life a living hell.'

Dean wasn't looking forward to the familiar streets, to the memories. But it might help Chase, and he had to concentrate on that. She was asleep in the backseat of the impala, had been for the last two hours. He wouldn't admit it, but he was really starting to worry about her. Normal people didn't sleep this much, but, then again, there was nothing normal about her.

Sam was watching her in the rear view mirror. "Pull over," he said suddenly.

"What?" Dean asked glancing in the mirror and effectively hiding the worry in his voice.

"There's something on her arm." Sam pushed open the door the second the car stopped. Dean quickly followed, and opened the back door.

"Chase," Sam said quietly.

She didn't move.

"Chase," he said a little louder.

Still nothing.

"Hold on," Dean muttered. He leaned his arm on the back of the seat. "Chase,"

She groaned, and her tired eyes slowly opened.

"It's like wolf whisperer, or something," Sam muttered as Chase sat up.

Dean ignored his brother's attempt at humor as he eyed Chase's arm. "Grab the alcohol from the first aid kit in the trunk," he commanded.

"Why?" Sam asked heading for the back of the car.

"It's got to come out." Dean reached forward to brush a finger over the small, grey bump near Chase's shoulder.

"Why do you need alcohol?"

The cool bottle dropped onto the seat, and Dean slid his knife out of his pocket. "I'm no doctor, but I think that's the way it's done."

As he flipped the knife open, Chase's eyes opened wide. "No!" she cried shrinking back against the seat. "No!"

"She talked!" Sam exclaimed.

"Yeah," Dean gritted his teeth. "That thing needs to come out of your arm, Chase. Please, I swear I won't hurt you."

"I said no!" Chase had baked up as far as possible into the seat and was holding her hands up in a pathetic defense.

"Maybe we should wait, Dean," Sam suggested. "I mean, she's gone from not talking to saying one word to a full thought."

"The thing in her arm's got to come out, Sammy." Dean slid the knife back into his pocket. "Is there anything else in the kit?"

Shaking his head, Sam rummaged through the small box. "The only other thing is a needle. It's the last one we have."

"So we'll get more later." Dean held out his hand. The think needle seemed to weigh enough to sink through his skin. "Is this better?" he asked her.

Chase studied the miniature spike through slit eyes before silently shifting so her shoulder was in front of Sam and her other arm was wrapped around Dean's neck. "Quick," she said burying her shoulder into Dean's.

With a impassive nod, Dean handed the needle over and wrapped an arm around Chase's waist. "Kinda like when we met," he said in attempt not only to get her mind off of the ordeal, but to, hopefully, get her talking. "Seems like you're always getting into trouble, Stone," he continued as she cringed against the prick of the point. "Just once I'd like a nice, quiet welcome. No injuries, no hunts. Is that too much to ask?"

Chase raised her head to glance incredulously at him. "Yes."

"Of course it is," he conceded. "I should never have asked."

"All done," Sam said holding something tiny in the palm of his hand. "Care to explain what this was doing in her arm, Dean?" he asked dropping a tiny crescent moon shaped pendant into his hand.

"No," Dean replied reaching into the pocket of his jacket and pulling out the two pink ribbons. "You need to wear this," he told Chase threading each ribbon through a hole in the symbol. "It'll keep you a little safer."

"Okay." Chase nodded as he tied the ends of the ribbon together around her wrist.

"Now what?" Sam questioned shutting the trunk with an unnecessary bang.

"You drive. We're only about an hour out." Dean shut the door, safely locking Chase and himself in the back.

"Thank goodness," Sam muttered starting the car. "I don't think I could take much more."

X

"We'll if it isn't the Winchester boys!"

Dean could smell chicken cooking. And he wasn't even inside the house yet.

"And who is this?" Missouri asked with a welcoming smile.

Chase sank deeper into Dean's side. "It's alright," he told her. "This is Missouri. She's on our side." Chase nodded and bit her lip. "This is Chase," he told the woman, "She's my…our…"

Missouri's smile widened. "Well now, I bet you're mighty hungry," she addressed Chase. "It's been awhile since you've eaten." Chase scowled slightly, but Missouri just laughed. "Dean, there's a cabinet full of dishes and silverware in the dinning room. Set the table."

"But, I-" he started to protest.

"And Sam," Missouri completely ignored him, "start us a fire. It's getting too cold for a woman my age. There's wood in the back. Now," she took Chase's elbow and guided her in the direction of a warm kitchen, "why don't you and I get acquainted while I finish up dinner?"

Chase allowed herself to be led away, if a little reluctantly.

"What'd I tell you boys?" Missouri said over her shoulder. "Get!" Both brothers hurried into action.

Missouri chuckled quietly, "They're such good boys," she stated as she ushered Chase into the kitchen.

XxXxX

Chase liked this woman. She like the familiar way she spoke, as if they had known each other forever. She liked the way Missouri smelt of cake batter and incense. And she liked the way Missouri didn't treat her like she was dying. Because Chase was very much alive, and even though she was rather fond of Dean, he seemed to be forgetting that.

"They're such good boys," Missouri said again. She shook a spice Chase had never seen before over the cooking meat. The smell made Chase's mouth water.

"Old family recipe," Missouri explained turning the stove off. "It's been a long while since I've had an excuse to make it. Sit?" She pointed to a chair at the edge of the room.

Chase obliged, making sure the chair was angled away from the sleeping man to her right. He was the first one she had seen since they left the motel, and he was sleeping right in the middle of the sink. It was very odd, even to her.

"You poor thing," Missouri sighed as she settled in a chair next to Chase. "What have you been through?"

Returning her attention to the woman, Chase shrugged. She didn't know any better than the next person. The only thing she remembered before Dean waking her up was being asleep. And that was still debatable.

"Poor child," Missouri said, "You've got such a dark past. So many secrets." She put a comforting hand over Chase's. "Some you don't even know." She stood up and stirred something occupying a big pot on the back burner.

Chase watched the practiced movements as Missouri put the finishing touches on the chicken and transferred everything from frying pans to ornate plates.

"Boys!" she called, "Get in here and help!" Sam and Dean shuffled in like little boys and took what plates were handed to them. "Chastity, will you grab the basket of bread on the counter?" Missouri asked following the brothers out.

She reached for the light container, but a slight breeze blew through an open window and stopped her in her tracks. She smelled something, something…delicious, and she was hungry. Suddenly Missouri's meal didn't appeal to her anymore. Setting the basket back on the small table, Chase stepped out a back door into fading sunlight. The smell was coming from behind the house, and another house, and another? Squinting her eyes, Chase could make out a line of trees a few houses down.

"Not now child."

Chase jumped at the sudden sound of Missouri's voice.

"I don't think the neighbors would appreciate a wolf running through their yards this time of day," Missouri laughed, "No, not at all. Why don't you come in and appease the human in you first, hmm?" She reached for Chase's elbow and led her back inside. "Oh yes," she said in response to Chase's questioning frown, "Not all your secrets are unknown. But they're safe with me. Now come."

Chase let herself be led into the now toasty dining room. She did have a secret, and even though she couldn't really remember what it was, she believed Missouri. Everything would be safe with her.

XxXxX

He had always been bad at rock, paper, scissors. He didn't know why he agreed to it. Ever. Now he was stuck on the uncomfortable couch while Sam had the second spare bed in the room next to Chase's. And, despite the fact that he had promised to keep an eye on her, Dean would feel much better when he saw Chase safe and sound the next morning.

"Dean?"

Or tonight.

"You should be asleep, Chase," he said sitting up.

She padded the rest of the way into the room and sat next to him. Her fingers played with the grey moon that hung from her wrist. "I don't understand."

"Understand what?" Dean still wasn't used to the sound of her voice. The thought depressed him, since it was all he wanted for two months.

"Dreams." She leaned into his side.

"About what?" He asked putting an arm around her shoulder.

"Death."

XxXxX

_You can't save them. The thought repeated itself over and over in Sam's head as he ran. Ran from what? That was a good question. But something was going after her. Something was going after his brother. Something was coming after him. _

_Two little girls ran in front of him. "Go!" he urged, but they just watched him struggle with the immense weight he was pulling. Their hands were clasped together, and their dark hair blew in a wind he couldn't feel. "Run!" he said again, but to no avail. The girls just looked with unblinking eyes._

_"Go," the first girl said._

_"Run," the second told him._

_"We'll save you," they said together. _

_There was a loud howl and a quiet snarl, and Sam twisted around to see a man and a wolf circling._

_"You can't save her, Sammy," the man said in a flash of yellow eyes. "She's mine. They're all mine." _

_The wolf glanced at him with yellow eyes of her own before falling to the ground._

_Sam looked for the two girls, but they were gone. When he turned back to the wolf he saw the two girls weeping over its corpse._

_"She's mine, Sammy. Soon they all will be." _


	6. Awake

**Disclaiming to the max. Word.**

**Sorry this has taken a bit, I've been at a horse show in NC for the past week, and, yes, I kinda kicked ass. Haha. Anyway, I hope this was long awaited and highly coveted. **

**Also, I was recently informed that the new season starts October fourth. I, personally, am counting the days. 72, btw. I feel like such a loser, but those boys are worth it! **

* * *

Sam woke up from the nightmare covered is sweat. His muscles were tense and exhausted like he'd just been through a fight. Shoving the blankets off the bed, Sam lay back against the pillows and took a deep breath. 

"Aw, poor thing had a nightmare."

So much for relaxing. Sam jumped up and flipped on the lights.

"Ouch," the white-haired girl standing in front of him squinted at the harsh glow. "Warn a girl before you do that."

"Who are you?" Sam's voice was measured and controlled- a complete difference to how he felt.

"The name's Rox. I'm sure you've heard of me." She raised an eyebrow at his questioning glance. "No? I would have sworn you brother…" Suddenly she laughed, "No. No, I guess he wouldn't want to tell you about me." Holding out a hand as if to shake his she continued. "My name's Roxanne. I like you, so you can call me Rox."

Sam ignored her out stretched arm. "That still doesn't tell me who you are."

"Clever," she stated hand combing her hair into a ponytail. "I'm the girl that brought your brother's pretty, little bitch back." She laughed again, quieter this time. "Well, I guess she's not so much of a bitch anymore."

"You brought Chase back?" Sam could feel his jaw drop. This girl wasn't anything. She was just a girl.

"Don't sound so surprised." Rox sat on the edge of an antique dresser. "So how's the happy family doing?"

"Good, I guess." Sam watched her suspiciously. Even though she was just a girl, there was something off about her.

"Everyone happy? Healthy? Mentally and physically, of course," she said with the air of a psychiatrist.

"What do you mean?" Sam debated yelling for Dean, but that would mean waking up Missouri and Chase. Besides he could handle her.

Rox looked up from examining her blood red nails. "I mean that she was brought back from the dead," she emphasized the last word. "Did it ever occur to anyone that she should go to a doctor? Maybe a mental institution?"

"She's not sick. Or crazy," he added as an after thought.

'Maybe." Rox grinned wickedly and slid off the mahogany. "Thanks for the chat, but I've got other places to be. You know how it goes. So many pre-claimed souls, so little time." With a wink she disappeared.

Sam stood, staring at the spot she had occupied. He needed to talk Dean. He needed to talk to Dean, now.

XxXxX

"Chase," Dean sighed, "I'm sure they're just dreams. Nothing to worry about." He cold feel her nod as well as her own sigh on his neck. "Besides," he said a little more cockily, "nothing can get through me."

She giggled and shook her head. Lifting her eyes to his she tried to explain, "Everything dies."

"Everything?" Dean frowned. She looked so scared, and all he wanted to do was reassure her that nothing, _nothing, _was going to hurt her.

"No. Flowers. Two. Pink. Always."

"So two, pink flowers are always alive?"

"Yes."

"But everything else is dead?"

"Yes."

Dean let the information sink in before he continued. He debated that Chase's dream could just be a dream, but the idea was quickly slashed because, hell, they're never just dreams. "Do you see anything die?" he asked after a few quiet moments of contemplation.

"No," her answer was slow. "I'm dead, too."

The statement stopped his thoughts. She wasn't dead. Not anymore. Did she know? Should he tell her? "Chase, where were you before we found you in our motel room?" he asked. Maybe she would remember. He hoped she wouldn't.

She sat up, straight against the back of the couch, a small frown on her shadowed face. "I was asleep. I'm still sleeping." Suddenly her eyes grew wide and she leapt off the seat.

"What is it?" Dean automatically gripped the knife under his pillow.

"I'm sleeping." She backed up further. "You'll die. Everything dies!"

"Chase," Dean's grip on his knife eased, "I'm not going to die."

"Yes, you will! Yes, you will!" She sobbed, crumpling into a ball on the floor. "I don't want you to." Her statement was covered in tears. "I don't want you to."

He watched her for a second, unsure how to handle all her emotion. He had never seen anyone break down like this, and that Chase, fearless, kill you as soon as look at you Chase, crying on the floor was a whole new situation to him. "I'm not going to die," he crouched next to her and hesitantly put his arm over her shoulder. "Come on, Chase. Please." He didn't know what he was asking for, not really. But if she would just stop crying long enough to talk to him. If she would even really talk to him!

Chase's rested her head on his shoulder as her weeping slowly ceased. "I'm sorry," she told him.

"Don't be," Dean answered tipping her chin up. Tears had washed clean streaks across her face, and her hazel eyes shone with fresh moisture. He was so happy she was alive. Getting lost in the moment of it all, Dean leaned down and kissed her lightly on the lips. A quiet gasp loosed itself from her mouth, but she kissed him back, gradually deepening the kiss as the seconds ticked by. "Damn, I missed that," Dean said as soon as they pulled apart.

"Dean?" Chase's question held a note of amazement.

"Hmm?" He leaned back against the couch cushions.

"Where am I?"

Dean immediately sat up and stared at her. "What?"

"Where am I?" The question was slower this time, but Dean could hear the slight panic rising.

"You're in Kansas. You have been for the past twelve hours." All of a sudden, it occurred to him, "You're making sense."

"Am I?" she asked, practically hysterical, "because nothing else seems to be! How am I in Kansas? The last thing I remember…" her eyes grew wide, "Holy hell, Dean, what happened?" She pulled up her shirt so that her stomach was visible. "Turn on a light," she commanded.

Slightly bewildered, Dean did as he was told. How did she not remember where she was? And how did she all of a sudden remember everything else? _And you will kiss her. _Rox's voice popped into his head. Was this part of Rox's prophecy or whatever the hell it was? A kiss and all of a sudden everything was normal? Surely demonic magic wasn't that clichéd. Was it?

"My stomach." Chase traced a hand over the smooth service of her skin. That thing…the fireflies. And that man…what was his name? Why can I not remember his name?" She let her shirt down and squeezed her eyes shut. "What happened?"

"What do you remember?" Dean asked not bothering to hide his astonishment.

"I remember running after a little girl. And you were supposed to do something. And that man came, and the fireflies, and then I was running." She turned toward him, "I wasn't going to make it back to the house."

"You didn't make it," He took a deep breath, "You passed out in the woods. Chris found you, took you back to the house."

Chase was shaking her head, "How did I end up here?"

Dean cringed. It was now or never. "When I said you didn't make it, I meant just that. You died, Chase."

"I what?" She laughed nervously, "That's impossible."

"You were dead for two months. And then I…"

"What did you do?" Harshness added itself to her tone.

"I couldn't handle it anymore, okay?" He got angry right back. "It was all I could do not to join you six feet under. If it wasn't for Sammy, and the promise I made you a couple of days I would have!"

"Promise?" She allowed a split second for confusion before yelling back at him, "So you sold your soul to a fucking demon! Yeah, Dean," she responded to his questioning gaze, "I know how it works. There's only one way to bring someone back form the dead. And damn you for thinking I'd be okay with that!" She crossed her arms over her chest, "So how long'd you get? A year? Two? Six months?"

"I didn't make a deal!" he exclaimed, "Fuck, Stone, if you'd give me a split second to explain-"

"Fine, explain. But it had best be good!" Chase clamped her mouth shut under her growing frown.

"There was no deal. Yeah, it looks like everything has go through you to get to my _claimed _soul."

"So how am I here, Dean? Magic?"

"Maybe!" His jaw clenched as he tried to get a hold of his thoughts. "I met this girl, and she brought you back. Deal free."

"Deal free?" The question was softer, but she was still wary, "What about the consequences? Something's gotta give. You of all people should know that." Chase's hand found his. "What's dead should stay dead. You know that."

"I didn't care. I still don't."

"Dean-"

"I couldn't deal, Chase. Another day and I would have lost it."

"You wouldn't have lost it." Chase sighed and gripped Dean's hand tighter.

"You'd be surprised." Dean laughed mirthlessly. "But that's not a problem anymore."

"No," Chase placed a light kiss on his cheek. "Now we're going to deal with a whole new batch.

"Well, you know, we don't have to start sorting through problems tonight," he dramatically yawned and stretched an arm across her shoulder.

"You're so perverted." Chase laughed. But she leaned into his side all the same.

"Maybe. Maybe not. It's been awhile since me and you-"

"Dean? You awake?" Sam's voice echoed through the hall.

Chase burst out laughing, and Dean groaned. "Yeah."

"Sam!" Chase jumped up and hugged the taller man when he entered the room.

"Um, hey, Chase," he said shooting Dean a glance over her shoulder.

"It's good to see you."

XxXxX

The heels of Rox's boots clicked loudly against the uneven concrete.

"Making house calls, now?" A deep voice asked, stepping out from the shadows.

"What can I see?" She shrugged and pulled her jacket tighter, "I'm not a patient one."

"That I knew." His eyes mimicked the color of the rising sun. "So?"

"I think she's figuring it out. But, on the off chance she really is dumber than she looks, I had a chat with a man in a position to hurry things along."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, it should be an interesting few months." Rox paused at the corner contemplating where to go next.

"I'd try California," the man laughed, "There's good reaping there."

Rox laughed, "You'd know."


	7. Over My Head

**Dis. Disclaim. Discliamer.**

**Just a note, I deleted Irresistible, if you couldn't tell. Dean and Jenny were annoying me. The sluts.**

* * *

Chase dried her hands on a blue and green striped towel and wiped a clean streak across the fogged mirror. Two months of death didn't seem to have effected her much, she decided gazing at her reflection. She was a little softer around the edges, her muscles weren't as strong as they used to be, and her hair was longer, but overall not too bad. Sighing lightly, she pulled on the oversized t-shirt and sweats that the boys had lent her. A shopping trip was defiantly in order. Or maybe she should call Lilly. Chase laughed. Lilly would have a heart attack. Who knew if they were still in Pennsylvania even.

Pennsylvania. She could barely remember anything about it. Granted, the memories were coming back, slowly, but they were. It was just so frustrating! She still wasn't sure what had happened, what was happening, or what was going to happen. Frankly, she didn't want to think about it.

"Chase?" There was a light knock on the door. "Chase, honey, can I talk with you a bit?"

Smiling, Chase unlocked and opened the faded door to find a rather distraught looking Missouri standing before her. "Sure," she answered following the woman out through the living room and into the dimly lit room she ran her business out of. Rows of tarot cards were laid out on the circular table as well as different sized cups containing an assortment of herbs. "What's going on?" she asked as a feeling of discomfort spread to the tips of her toes.

"It just…" for the first time since she had met her, well, re-met her, Missouri's normal outgoing personality was shadowed by hesitancy. "I've been talking with the boys, dear, and now that I know everything- confirmed everything, really- I think some things should be looked at."

"Okay…" Chase sat deeply in the overly cushioned chair. Why was this making her so uneasy?

"First, I know a doctor that would be more than willing to take a look at you, and not-"

"No." Chase immediately refused, "That can't happen. If any kind of blood sample or anything like that was taken a doctor would realize something was off." She crossed her arms, "I'm in no mood to become some giant experiment."

"Oh, no, honey," Missouri laughed, "He's a good friend of mine. Knows what's what"

"Oh," Chase nodded, "But I feel perfectly fine, and I really don't see the need-"

"Things aren't always what they seem, Chase." Missouri laughed, "I'm not saying there's anything wrong, but I think it would help the boys a little. Sam's all worked up over a visit of some kind. And Dean's just worried." Missouri wrinkled her forehead, "And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a bit worried myself."

"But, Missouri-"

"Hush, child. I'm not going to make you do it," Missouri stated to end the conversation. For a moment the shuffling of the tarot cards was deafening. "The boys are both asleep. There's a stretch of undeveloped land a mile from here. It should hold you for a bit."

"Thanks," Chase whispered before slinking out. "Thanks a lot."

X

It felt good to run. To run was to be free, to be powerful, and she certainly didn't feel either.

But something was different. The change was different, the wolf's body was different, everything was different. She tried to attribute it to the fact that she was out of shape, but there was just something heavy about the situation. Maybe there was something wrong with her. Maybe she should see Missouri's doctor. _You're being paranoid, _she scolded herself, _you're fine. _

She was fine.

XxXxX

Dean watched as the last rays of sun faded from the ceiling. A door slam had woken him up. An angry door slam that he knew had to have been Chase. Glancing at his phone he was surprised to find that he had been asleep for about five hours. He hadn't gotten that much sleep at one time in months. With a smile, he climbed out of the bed. Might as well go see what Chase's huff was about.

In the kitchen, Missouri was sliding dishes back into their proper places. "We'll go now," she was saying.

A glum expression was on Chase's face. Her hair was in disarray, and her clothes were crooked. Either she had just jumped a deer or some guy. He wasn't sure how he felt about either. "There's nothing wrong," she said quietly, but Missouri heard.

"Then why go?" Missouri asked dusting off her hands.

"I don't want them to worry," she looked eyes with the floor, "I don't want anyone to worry."

Dean slunk back into the shadows. Where was she going?

"Don't carry on," Missouri said in her kind but stern way, "You'll come back happier." Surveying the kitchen, she seemed to deem it clean. "I'll be right back."

As soon as she was out of the room, Dean stepped in.

"Hey," Chase said with a timid smile. "Have a good nap?"

"Yeah," Dean wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "Could've been better."

Chase sighed and leaned her head against Dean's chest. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

"Come, girl," Missouri came back into the kitchen wrapped in a dark shawl. "Dean, there's leftovers warming in the oven. Make sure Sam gets fed."

"Where are you going?" Dean asked Chase.

"Paying a visit to one of Missouri's friends," she attempted smiling again, "We'll be back soon." She kissed his cheek and walked out the door.

Missouri stared at him for a second. "Make sure you and your brother eat."

"Yes ma'am," Dean replied obediently.

"Don't run away and break her heart, boy." She left after Chase without regard to Dean's astonished expression.

XxXxX

She wanted to leave. More than anything she wanted to be back at Missouri's where she felt safe, and where she was with Dean.

"So you lived in France for awhile?" Missouri's friend, William Frasier tried to make small talk as the trio awaited all the test results.

"Mmhmm," Chase answered vaguely. She wasn't in the mood for conversation, and she didn't bother to listen to William's reply. She was more preoccupied by the fact that the smell of blood lingered in the walk in clinic, and damn she was hungry!

There was a light tap on the door, and a tired looking aide stepped in. "Sir," she said handing William a folder.

"Your test results," he explained tapping the folder with a finger.

_Thank goodness, _she sighed.

"Well," William said in a professional tone, "Your lipids are good, cholesterol. Blood count's off, but that's expected." He closed the folder with a laugh. "Do your predictions ever fail, Missouri?" He asked with a grin.

Missouri smiled back, "Not in all my years."

"What?" Chase asked noticing the mix of jubilance and anxiety on both faces.

"Well," William sat across from her, "I don't know how to explain it, I mean since you've bee, err, gone for the past two months, and since, well, you're only half human, but."

"But what?" Chase demanded, near panic.

William and Missouri's grins grew bigger.

"What is it?" she asked, "Is everything alright?"

"You're perfectly healthy, girl," Missouri beamed, "Perfectly healthy."

XxXxX

Leaning back in his chair, Dean let his eyes close. Missouri's cooking was better the second time around. Once again, ruining his stupor, a door slammed, and angry footsteps echoed in the hall. Dean's eyes snapped open in time to see Chase storm past and scale the stairs to her makeshift room. Missouri came fluttering in behind her, a frown creasing her forehead. "What happened?" Dean asked standing up.

"Where's Sam?" She hung her shawl up and worriedly glanced up the steps.

"Eat-"

"Dude, what happened to her?" Sam asked interrupting his brother.

"Sam," Missouri grasped his arm. "Help me clean up the kitchen."

Throwing a questioning glance over his shoulder, Sam allowed himself to be led away. Dean shrugged and headed upstairs.

"Chase?" he said, quietly opening her door. She was lying on the bed, her face buried in a pillow. "Chase," he tried again.

"What?" Her voice was muffled in the pillow, but Dean could hear the malice in it.

"You okay?" He stood at the edge of the bed gazing down at her. She had yet to look up.

"Peachy," came the subdued reply. "Just dandy."

"So what's going on?"

Chase sat up with a sigh. She watched him debated between sitting next to her and leaving for a second before she grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him to her. Dean's eyes widened when his lips met hers. He didn't remember her tasting this good. Vanilla mixed with…her. Eagerly, she pulled him on top of her as she leaned back onto the bed. He let his hands roam, becoming reacquainted with her, and she let hers roam just as much. His hands slipped under her shirt. As they came in contact with her stomach, she gasped and rolled them around.

"What?" he asked, worried that he had triggered some sort of bad memory.

"Nothing," she kissed him lightly once more before getting up. "I just need to hunt, that's all." She left the room without so much as a second glance.


	8. Broken

**They aren't mine, but I like to play around with the boys sometimes. Damn, I wish that was a true reality. **

**I'm finally getting where I want to be in this fic. Woo! And to all those who are confused, Chase's whole delima will be reveled in the next chapter. But kudos and all my love if you can guess it.**

* * *

It was amazing how many deer the small stretch of land held. She had to have gone through three, maybe four, by now, and only in two hours. Despite the meal, there was still a slight burning in the back of the wolf's throat as she sensed an idiot rabbit lurk out in the dark.

Chase ignored it, and pushed the wolf's instincts back down. She sat on a fallen log, stretching her legs out in front of her, and buried her face in her hands. What the hell was she supposed to do now?

She couldn't tell anyone, that was for sure. Missouri had promised to keep it a secret until Chase had a chance to talk it out. Or think it over. She was going with the latter. _So think!_ she told herself.

First of all, if she decided to go through with it, a shiver scaled her back, she couldn't stay here, or with the boys. There was still her apartment in South Carolina, or her parent's house in Tennessee, but she wanted to avoid that if she could. South Carolina would be good, at least for a little while. Damian's pack only stayed in one place for so long, they were probably gone by now, so she wouldn't have to worry about them. And, if it came down to it, she could always go to Tennessee.

And how would she get there without anyone knowing? There was money in a bank account with her name on it. She could probably find a branch down here and get a few checks or a credit card. And then she could go shopping, rent a car…viola! Good morning SC sunrise.

Yes. That would work. Pushing herself off the tree, she headed back toward Missouri's. Now she just had to elude the Winchester's. Yeah. That would work.

X

"So where are you going, again?" Dean asked leaning back in his chair.

"I need some clothes. I can't keep wearing yours." Chase tugged at the bottom of the green tank top.

"I'll go with you."

"I thought Missouri needed her lawn mowed."

"Yeah, well." It was obvious he didn't want to defy the woman.

Chase laughed. "It won't take long. I'll be back in about two hours."

"And when you get back?" he asked sliding up behind her and setting his hands on her hips.

"We'll chat." She grabbed Dean's cell phone from his pocket. "I'll call if I need to."

"Fine." Dean dropped his hands with a sigh. "Don't hesitate to call, okay?"

"Don't follow me, okay?" Chase shot back a little more heated than necessary. Dean's eyes busted his tough exterior. "Sorry," she soothed, "I'm just tired." Giving him a quick kiss on the check, she headed out the door and down the street.

It wasn't such a long walk to the nearest clothing store, not when she ran two thirds of the way, but she would probably have to hire some type of taxi to get back. And, thankfully, there was a bank right next to it. Running a hand through her disheveled hair, Chase stepped into the bank's cool lobby. Thanks to a very cooperative teller (who might have been hitting on her, she wasn't really paying attention) she walked out successful with a fresh credit card in her hand and an activated account that had been gathering interest ever since she left South Carolina.

Plastic in hand, she walked next door into a tiny department store. She smiled at the rows of clothes and the isles of shoes in the back. Shopping was good, shopping she could handle, and there was a pair of black, knee high, stiletto boots calling her name.

XxXxX

Dean paced the halls. She had only been gone for an hour, but something was wrong.

"Boy, if you wear a rut in my floor, may God have mercy on your soul," Missouri snapped walking towards him.

"What's wrong with her?" he asked immediately. He was over the idiotic charade of perfection.

"Wrong?" Missouri seemed caught off guard, "There's nothing wrong."

"Then why did she come back so angry yesterday? I mean, I'm sure whatever person you went to see couldn't have given her any kind of bad news. And I haven't gotten a chance to talk to her." He leaned back against the wall, "She's not herself, and I don't like it."

"She's alright," Missouri clucked her tongue, "But you need to sit her down and let her know you're worried." She sighed, "Chase is in a tough place right now. She's missed quiet a bit, and been through even more. She hides her suffering, Dean, and she does it well."

Dean nodded. Missouri was right. Chase hid behind a lot. Probably even better than himself.

"Hey," Sam came into the hall holding two big shopping bags. "Chase is back."

Taking the bags from his brother, Dean heard Chase sashay up the stairs "Bring those, would you?" she asked.

He nodded and followed her.

"Thanks," she said when he set the bags in her room. "It feels so much better to have clothes."

"You buy out the whole store?" he asked sarcastically, eyeing the four bags on the floor.

"Yeah, they're sending the rest of it by jet tomorrow morning. You think Missouri's yard is big enough for the landing?" she responded.

Dean shook his head. "So what'd you get?"

She looked at him skeptically. "Tell me you're asking to make pointless conversation, not because you actually care."

"Why?" Dean asked, looking up from the ground. His eyes went wide in surprise. She was dressed in a fringed jean skirt, and a black top that hugged her torso. Not to mention the heeled boots that practically dared him to rip the tantalizing clothes off her right then and there.

"Because, I have no intention of telling you." She proceeded to rip price tags off her purchases.

"Good, because I've never been one for pointless conversation.

Chase nodded in content. "So."

"So," Dean agreed sitting on the edge of the bed.

"When are you and Sam leaving?"

"What?" The question floored him.

"You can't stay here forever. I'm back to…normal. Evil doesn't kill itself." Her calm voice was folded into the gray shirt she had shoved back in a bag.

"Um…I…Sam wanted to catch an fireman turned arson in California?" It was the best he could come up with.

She nodded, still folding. "And when will you be leaving?"

"I don't know. _We _could leave day after tomorrow if you want."

"What?" It was her turn to be floored.

"You honestly think I'm going to leave you behind?" he asked leaning towards her.

"Well, I-"

"That after everything that's happened I was just going to let you hang out in Kansas? Alone?"

"I never said-"

"Don't you think I care about you more than that?" Was that why she was so upset? He grabbed her hand and pulled her next to him. "Look at me, Chase."

Her jaw set in defiance, Chase raised her eyes to his. "I don't expect-"

Dean cut her off with a kiss. "That's your problem, Stone. You should expect a little more from me, I'm not a complete ass. Just partially." He felt her lips curve under his. "Now about that 'chat' we were supposed to have…"

XxXxX

"You're going to hate me," Chase whispered in the darkness. She could feel Dean's rhythmic breathing and slow heartbeat beside her. "You're going to absolutely loathe me," she said again. "Too bad the feeling won't be mutual." She leaned over and softly stroked his cheek. Practically snatching away her lingering fingers, Chase slid out of the bed and quietly pulled her clothes back on. She had things to do.

Under the pretense of a hunt, she had successfully snuck the majority of her new clothes out to the rental car. It had been a hike (the car was parked a few blocks away), but what else was she supposed to do with a sensitive psychic in the house? Walking as quietly as she could so her heels wouldn't click on the hardwood, Chase grabbed the last bag. She allowed herself a last glimpse in the dark, smiling at the thought of Dean and her relishing in it earlier. "It's better this way," she breathed, "You aren't cut out for what's going on."

_You should expect a little more from me, _Dean's voice echoed in her head. She ignored it.

With a last resigned nod, Chase silently crept down the stairs, skipping the last squeaky step, and soundlessly opened the front door. Much to her surprise, a small piece of paper with her name on it was taped to it. She pulled it off and began the hike to the car.

Chase grinned as the black corvette came into view. She had asked the dealer for speed, and while the car was a bit ostentatious, she couldn't help but love it. It didn't take long for her to stuff her bag in the trunk and speed away from the dark street, but she didn't dare breathe easy until she was out of the city limits. Only three hours until she would be at the only airport she had deemed far enough away to withstand Winchester tracking. Ironically, the white slip of paper chose that moment to catch her eye. Pulling to the side of the highway, Chase unfolded it.

_You'll always have a home here. All of you will always have a home here._

She had always liked Missouri. Not giving herself time to reminisce, Chase pulled back onto the road. Three hours until the plane, a morning until South Carolina. It would be good to be home.


	9. Reckless

**Okay, so I kinda lied. You don't exactly find out what's up with Chase, but it should be obvious right now (no offense if it's not). **

**And I'm sorry that this has taken so long! I started college a week ago and everything's been so hectic! But I hope this chapter is up to par!**

* * *

Her crumbling, old apartment building had never looked so good. Feeling a small portion of weight lift off her shoulders, Chase quickly scaled the metal steps that led to her front door. She felt along the top of the doorframe for the spare key, but only found dirt. _Impossible, it's always there._ Hands on her hips, she surveyed the faded, blue door. It wouldn't be too hard to break down, but she would spend the rest of the day feeling like she was being watched, or actually being watched. Who knew what was around these days. She could call Desiree, but what if everyone knew she was…had been…dead? Des would freak, even more so than Lilly. There was a motel around the corner. Chase debated staying there for a bit to figure things out, but quickly rejected that idea. No one wanted to stay in a room that smelt like cats. 

"Can I help you?"

Chase spun around, nearly losing her balance, and came face to face with a tall, blonde haired, blue eyed, picture perfect man. "I'm actually just looking for a key," she managed to say after an awkward silence.

"Oh." The man fished in his pocket and came back with a familiar key. "This it?"

"Yeah," Chase said slowly, "Actually it is." She frowned up at the man. Who was he, and why did he have her key? "Um, any reason why it's in your possession?"

"Well," the man smiled, "it is my apartment."

Chase's eyes doubled in size. "It's what?"

"I bought it about two months ago. Some girl sold it to me. She said she couldn't keep it anymore." He shook his head, "Never said why, though."

Two months ago. Des did know she was dead. "Would you happen to know where the girl is now?"

He shrugged, "She sent all her stuff somewhere in Tennessee. Maybe there?"

"Right," Chase mumbled, _Of course she would sell my home, but stay as far away as possible from the Stone house._

"Who are you by the way?" he asked hesitantly.

"My name's Chase," she shook his outstretched hand, "I'm the reason that girl sold you the apartment."

"Yikes," he grinned, "I'm Adam. You want to come in and, ah, recollect old memories or something?"

She gazed at him with consideration. He was handsome, not to mention that she could smell his delectable scent from here. And she was hungry… Chase quickly shook the thought out of her head in concern. _He is not your next meal, _she scolded herself, _something is seriously wrong with me. _"No thanks," Chase said with a forced laugh. "Sorry to bother you." With a quiet, defeated sigh, Chase's heels clicked their way down the steps.

"No bother," she heard the guy say above her. "None at all."

The second the building was out of sight, Chase collapsed back on shadowed wall. What the hell was going on? Des must have sold her apartment after she heard she had died, and that information would have come from Madison. And all her things were at her parent's house. And she had almost attacked an innocent man. After a few more moments of panic, Chase pushed herself to a stand and dusted herself off. She had to get a grip on things. As an uncomfortable ripple sailed through her stomach, she decided hunting would be the first grasp she would take.

¤

Dean threw an arm over his face to block the harsh rays of the sun. It couldn't possibly be time to get out of bed, could it? Every muscle in his body was completely drained, and all he wanted to do was go back to sleep with Chase beside him. Thinking of his own, personal resurrected, he slowly opened his eyes to make sure the sun hadn't woken her. _Must have, _he decided upon seeing the empty bed. Either that or she got hungry. With a long stretch and even bigger yawn, Dean slowly climbed out of the cozy bed and got dressed. Still rubbing his eyes, he clamored down the steps towards the smell of sizzling bacon.

"It's about time," Sam mocked form behind his coffee cup, "I thought something had killed you in your sleep."

"Yeah," Dean yawned again and poured himself a cup of coffee. "No such luck, Sammy."

"_Sam,_" his brother stressed,"It's Sam."

"Right, Samantha." Dean grinned at his brother's distress.

"Boys," Missouri scolded setting a heaping plate of bacon and eggs before each of them, "Settle down."

Dean grinned at the flustered woman, "Sorry." His grinned widened at the first forkful of eggs.

Missouri shook her head. "Is Chase coming?" she asked going back to the stove, "Seems that girl never eats. She's too thin."

"She's hunting, isn't she?" Dean asked between mouthfuls.

"I haven't seen her," Sam replied, "And I've been up a couple hours."

"She probably snuck past you," Dean stated.

"I don't think so, I'm sure I would have seen or heard her go out the door."

Dean frowned, "Where else could she be?"

"You've checked the rest of the house?" Sam bit of a piece of bacon.

"Not really," Dean shrugged, "It's not like she could hide here. No offense or anything, Missouri," he added as an afterthought. "Missouri?" he asked when he didn't get the normal reprimand. He looked over Sam's shoulder. Missouri was standing at the front door with her hand on the peeling paint.

"Well," she said quietly. "Well."

"What?" Dean set his fork down.

Shaking her head, the older woman walked back to the stove. "I've always wanted to be wrong."

"What's going on?" Dean demanded, his voice a little stronger than necessary.

Missouri frowned. "The future's never absolute. Things change, you know."

Sam locked eyes with Dean. "Missouri, where's Chase?"

"She left, Sam." A defeated sigh escaped, "I hoped that she wouldn't after last night," she glanced at Dean knowingly, "but girl and wolf are more mixed than I thought."

"What do you mean 'left'?" Dean exclaimed, "Where the hell did she go?"

"And what do you mean she's mixed with her wolf side?" Sam questioned quietly.

"Not important, Sammy," came through gritted teeth.

"Dean," Missouri snapped.

"Where'd she go?" Dean asked again, trying to control his rage.

"Where does she always run?" Missouri asked.

Dean stared at her incredulously. How could Missouri have suspected this and not told anybody?

"She went home, didn't she?" Sam walked over to them, "She's running from whatever happened when you two left, isn't she?"

Missouri's head hung, "Yes. I thought she would make the right choice before she left. I knew she would leave, but I thought she might tell you," she locked eyes with Dean. "She didn't."

_Well, duh! _Dean thought. If that were the case she would still be here. "What didn't she tell me?" He tried to request, but it sounded like more of a demand.

Missouri smiled a little, "Boy, you're going to have to grow up…"

¤

Chase dusted off her shirt. She hadn't bothered to keep clean tonight, and now she was paying the price. The blood that had stained the wolf's coat had faded on her shirt. She frowned in disgust, no way was it going to come out in the wash.

A twig snapped. Chase's head snapped up and she immediately went into a quiet crouch. Whoever was out there was obviously trying to be quiet as well because she could here no more footsteps. Still, she waited. Soon, a dark form emerged from the trees. She felt fur ripple across her back, and soon she was looking at the world through golden eyes. In her head, she laughed. It was just another wolf. Unfortunately, it was coming right for her. Chase's wolf, lowered its tail and bowed its head. There was no need for a fight. As the other wolf closed in, something clicked in Chase's head. It smelled familiar. It was familiar.

"Chase?!"

Chase had been so wrapped up in her revelation, she didn't even realize the other wolf had taken a new form.

Quickly following suit, Chase pushed her wolf form away and locked eyes with a more mature version of a girl she had left. "Kisten? What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" Kisten echoed, "Wait, I'm hallucinating, aren't I? I knew I shouldn't have tried that bear. Everyone said it was bad. I knew…"

"Kist," Chase grabbed her in a hug. "You're not hallucinating."

"What's going on?" Kisten collapsed onto the ground. "You're dead!"

"No I'm not," Chase grinned. "I was, but I'm not."

"Yes, you are!" Kisten exclaimed. "I saw you!" A tear trickled down her cheek. "You're gone!"

"No," Chase knelt down beside her, "Dean found someone to bring me back. I'm alive, I'm okay!"

Kisten was still shaking her head. "This is impossible."

"Do you really believe that with what we know?" Chase hugged her again. "Where's everybody else?"

"Um," Kisten shook her head a final time. "I don't…eh…"

"Kisten," Chase held her at arm's length, "Even if you don't believe it's really me, just play along right now, okay?"

The younger girl nodded. "I'm part of a new pack, well, Madison and I are. Oh!" she started to turn away, "Madison!"

"No!" Chase grabbed Kisten's arm as she turned, "Let's not tell her right now."

"Why?" Kisten immediately went on the defense. "If you're really here, really alive, she should know."

"Yes…" Chase debated, "But maybe you could answer my questions first?" She wasn't really sure why she didn't want Madison to know about her. But she did want her questions answered _now. _They could go talk to Maddy after.

"Fine," Kisten conceded. "But I have a question first."

"Fine," Chase echoed.

"Why do you smell different?" Kisten gazed at her with curious eyes.

"What?" Chase asked nervously.

Kisten stepped closer. "You smell different. That's why it took me a minute to recognize you." She frowned, "But at the same time you smelt familiar. That's why I changed back."

"I have been…dead, Kist." Chase sighed. "Where's Lilly and Chris?"

"Europe. Spain. They have a son…" She broke off with a astonished look in her eyes.

"Chase!" someone yelled behind her.

Chase spun around and came face to face with Madison. "Sam call a few minutes ago," she wrapped her in a bone crushing hug, "I didn't believe him. I was just playing along to make him feel better. I came to find Kist to go look around at your apartment, and you're here!" she hugged her again, "You're actually here!"

"Hey," Chase replied quietly. "How are you?"

"How am I?" Madison exclaimed, "How are you? I can't believe you're actually here! Alive!" For a moment, Chase thought Maddy's grip around her would never break, but after a few more seconds, Madison stepped back and looked Chase up and down. "I have to call Sam. The boys are worried about you."

"No!" Chase grabbed Madison's arm. "You can't tell them I'm here."

"Why?" Madison's ecstatic expression fell. "They're worried."

Chase hesitated. "I just…it's a lot to deal with, you know," she scrambled for an answer. "I need some time away from everything."

"How much time?" Kist broke in softly. "A few days, weeks, months?" She caught Chase's eye. "Maybe you should got to Spain, hang with Lilly for awhile."

"Maybe," Chase answered coldly.

Madison sent a questioning look between the two. "Or you could come home with us for tonight." She grabbed Chase's arm.

"Yeah, that sounds good."

"Maddy," Kisten came up behind them, "Why don't you finish up your hunt? I'll take her and you can meet us there."

"Well," Madison drew out the word.

"Go on," Chase smiled at her, "I promise I'll still be here."

"Alright," Madison replied in defeat, "but I won't be long."

Chase's smile grew as Kisten pushed Madison away, but it quickly dropped as the girl turned back on her. "You've been dead two months, Chase. I don't get it."

"Don't get what?" _Play dumb, _she told herself.

"You know exactly what I mean."

Chase glared at her, "No. I don't."

"Who's is it?"

"What?"

Kisten stalked off. "Follow me. Oh," she spun around, "if you don't want Maddy in on this, you'll explain when we get home. _Chastity._"


	10. Beautiful Wreck

**I don't own Sam, Dean, or Madison. But, um, Kripke? It is my birthday in a few weeks, and I think that Dean would look mighty fine with a bow around his neck. Don't you?**

**Whew! The news is out. What do you think? Do you hate me for it?**

* * *

Sam was worried about his brother. That was an understatement. Sam was terrified. Dean had been driving for thirteen hours straight. Without coffee. Without sleep. Without talking. And he was scared to suggest any of the above. 

He had called Madison before they left Kansas. She didn't believe him, obviously, but she had agreed to look anyway. Sam hadn't heard from her since.

"She call yet?"

Not that it kept Dean from asking. "No," Sam answered shortly.

Dean went back to the road.

Sam couldn't blame him, really. News like that. Coming from someone that wasn't Chase. And, well, news like that! He absent mindedly nodded his head. He would be pissed too.

And Dean would keep driving.

XxXxX

"Drink?" Kisten asked when they reached her and Maddy's apartment.

Chase shook her head.

"Of course not." Kisten curled up on a blue chair. "Sit," she gestured to a matching couch across from her.

Cautiously, Chase settled on the cushions. Kisten knew. She really knew. And she wasn't going to let Chase off. "So how have you been?" Chase asked in an attempt to divert the conversation.

"Good." Kisten answered curtly. "Yourself?"

"Well…" Chase shrugged, "As good as possible, I guess."

"Yeah," Kist laughed, "I guess it sucked being dead."

Chase shrugged, "You know."

"Not really." With a sigh, Kisten lowered her eyes to the floor. "So are you going to tell me?"

"Tell you what?" Chase avoided her eyes.

"Alright. Let me start." She shifted her position in the chair, "You died. You were dead for two months. Dean somehow finds a way to bring you back. You're suddenly alive and-"

"Don't say it." Chase whispered, "Please."

Kisten sighed, "Does anyone know?"

"Besides the doctor and the woman who dragged me there? No." Chase's stomach fluttered. "What am I going to do, Kist?"

Shaking her head, Kisten moved next to Chase and hugged her, "I don't know. But you can't run forever, Chase. The past will catch up to you."

Chase rested her head on Kisten's shoulder, "When did you grow up?"

"Just recently," Kisten answered with a laugh. "Maddy's coming."

"What?"

"Maddy's about to come in the door."

Chase frowned. She must have been so into her problems that she didn't notice the heavy sound of Madison's footsteps. Or maybe she just needed to hunt again.

"Chase, Sam's called me ten times in the past hour. What am I supposed to tell him?" Maddy ordered.

Cowering for a moment, Chase regarded the girl. Maddy was pissed. Very, very pissed. "That I'm not here?"

"Well, Chase, I don't think that's going to work considering that he and his brother are on their way."

Chase panicked. "They're what?"

"Coming here. For you." She flopped down in the blue chair. "What the hell is going on?"

"How long until they get here?" Chase asked searching around in her pocket for the keys to her rental car.

"A few hours. Chase!" Madison scrambled up to cut off Chase's exit. "Where are you going?"

"I don't know. Spain? Romania? France? Dean won't get on a plane.." The last phrase was mumbled.

"Why? They're coming here for _you_, Chase."

"That's the problem."

Madison grabbed her arm. "Explain to me. Right now," she commanded with a look in her eye that threatened death to anyone who dared defy her.

And Chase broke down.

XxXxX

"Where is she?" Dean demanded the second Madison had opened the door.

"Nice to see you too, Dean." Madison pushed past him and gave Sam a kiss on the cheek.

"This isn't the time to fuck your boyfriend, sweetheart," Dean said running a hand through his hair. "Where is she?"

"Who?" Madison asked as the trio stepped inside.

"Chase. I know she was here, and I want to know where she is now."

Madison's face stayed smooth, "Dean, Chase is dead."

"No she's not!" Dean exclaimed. He was getting sick of hearing that. "She's alive, and I know you know where she is."

"Dean," Madison tried to soothe, "Why don't you lay down for a second? I'll get you some coffee and-"

"I don't want any damn coffee!" Dean took a deep breathe. This was not how he pictured the conversation going. "I just want to talk to her. I need to talk to her."

"Dean-"

"She went home." Kisten appeared in the doorway of the next room.

"I know," Dean tried to keep his voice collected. "That's why I'm here."

"No, she really went home."

"I don't get it."

"Her parent's house."

"And where is that?"

Kisten bit her bottom lip. "Tennessee."

Dean had to take several deep breaths to keep his voice level. "How much of a head start does she have?"

"Three hours. I'll give you directions."

"Kisten," Madison warned.

"He deserves to know, Maddy." She pulled a pencil and paper out of a drawer. "It'll take you six hours."

"It'll take me three." He grabbed the directions from Kisten and walked out. "Let's go, Sam."

"You should go alone." Madison chimed in, finally conceding. "She'll feel more comfortable."

Not even stopping to think, Dean agreed. "Fine." And then he was out the door.

X

The house wasn't what he expected. Hell, that was an understatement! The house wasn't a house at all. It was a mansion. 'Welcome to Stone Manor," Kisten had written at the bottom of his directions. Welcome indeed.

Dean parked the Impala behind Chase's blue civic. The trunk was open, as was the front door, so she obviously hadn't been here long. Or maybe she had and was packing again. Wanting to catch her before that scenario happened, Dean ran up the front steps and quietly stepped inside the door.

The foyer of the house was set up like an old English sitting room. Dean had seen rooms like this in magazines and on TV, but never in reality. The ceiling was high, and a mirrored light hung from the middle. There were two, black, leather couches against the walls, and long silver lamps hung over them creating the perfect place to crack open one of the thick books lining the walls. There were also a few portraits hanging on the walls, and a blood red rug covering the hardwood floor. If this was just the waiting room, Dean almost feared the rest of the house.

A banging noise caught his attention. It seemed to be coming from up the stairs to his right, and, without thinking, Dean ran up those, too. The hallway at the top was dark, but a small stream of light shone from under a door at the far end. Cautiously, Dean inched his way to the door, finding that it was cracked open.

Dean felt his anger and fear fall away at the girl he saw through the gap. Chase looked like she had collapsed at the foot of a huge, canopied bed. Tears were streaming down her already drenched cheeks, and she was surrounding by shards of glass and metal. Crumpled in her hands was a sheet of paper, and, as he watched, she squeezed it harder.

He didn't know what to do. Dean Winchester did not deal with emotionally charged, chick flick moments. No way, no how. He stood at the door, teetering between charging in the room or charging out to his car. Hell, she was the one that ran away! She obviously didn't want him here: probably didn't need him, either.

But he wanted her. He was sick of living without her, even though it was one of the thoughts he figured he'd never have about some chick, and he wasn't going to let her go. Not again. If he admitted it to himself, he probably needed her, needed what she could give him, needed to give her something in return. And, if he admitted it, that trumped all the fear, anxiety, an depression he had felt over her. If he admitted it, he might be able to let himself love her. Just maybe.

The door squeaked when he pushed it open.

Glass crunching under his boots, he walked over to Chase and knelt down. She didn't look at him, instead opting to stare at the paper in her hands. Gently, Dean uncurled her fingers and took the sheet from her. As he uncrumpled it, he saw the portrait of a tall, dark haired man and a thin, lightly complexted woman. The man had his arms around the woman's waist, and, at their feet, a tiny, black wolf smirked at the camera.

"I didn't do it," Chase whispered.

Dean looked up. She was still watching the carpet. "What didn't you do?" he asked setting the picture down.

"I didn't break it." Another tear rolled down her cheek. "It was already broken. I didn't do it."

She was talking about the frame, Dean concluded. The glass and metal must have housed the picture.

"I came in," she wiped at her eyes, "and it was on the floor. There was dust on it."

Sure enough, dust covered the bits of glass Dean could see. But why was she defending herself? What was so important about the picture.

"They would be so mad," she laughed darkly, "he loved that picture. There's one for all three of us. He loved them."

"Chase," Dean said quietly.

" Adele's and Sophia's are alright, though." Chase sniffed. "They're okay."

"Adele and Sophia?" Dean asked taking her hands and slowly pulling her off the floor.

"My sisters." Chase's voice was hoarse as she let herself be led to the bed. She sat on the edge, and, as he started to let her go, she pulled Dean beside her. "I'm sorry," she told him, burying her face in the leather of his jacket. "I'm so sorry."

"It's just a picture frame, Chase," Dean attempted to explain, "we can find another."

Chase laughed into his shoulder. "That's not what I'm talking about." She lifted her head and wiped her eyes. "You've got to understand," she said in a wavering tone, "I'm an animal."

"You're not-"

"No," she held up a hand, "I am. I'm a highly coveted one at that. I've been hunted my whole life, no matter if it was to be worshiped or killed, and I'm really good at running. And now, the wolf in me thinks that every time there's a problem it should flee. I don't do anything to stop it." Another tear formed, but she brushed it away. "And that's no excuse for me, but it's why."

Dean wrapped his arms around her. He wanted to make her stop crying, he wanted to tell her that it was all going to be okay, that no one would hunt her anymore because he would kill them first. He wanted her to know that he would be there for her no matter what. But instead of saying all that, he told her the only thing his mouth had to offer. "Missouri told me."

Immediately, he felt Chase tense up. She lifted her head off of his shoulder, and sat back. "You're angry."

"I'm not."

"Sad?"

"No."

"Scared?"

"Terrified."

"Me too." Chase took a deep breath. "I'm so sorry."

"For what?" Dean was sick of her apologies. She hadn't done anything wrong, and it made him sick that she felt she had. "What did you do that's so bad?"

Chase stared at him "I thought you said Missouri told you."

He laughed. She was sorry for something she didn't have control over? Something that Missouri predicted would change both of them for the better? "Chase," he put a hand under her chin to make sure she wouldn't turn away, "if you apologize again, I'm going to lock you in the impala for the rest of your life."

Her forehead wrinkled, "I don't understand."

Dean grinned and grabbed her hands, "You're pregnant, Chase." She cringed at the word and tired to pull away, but Dean held tighter. "Now you listen. If you think for one second I'm going to let you go out on your own with _our _kid, you should lock yourself in the car."

"Do you know what this will do to you?" Chase snapped, "What this means? You work so hard to keep Sam safe, you don't have time to take care of anyone else. And rightly so. And you have the rest of the world to protect too, Dean. You aren't ready to have a kid running around! And I'm not either! There's too many people after the both of us! Imagine what kind of danger a baby will be in!" She took a deep breath. "I'm letting you leave. There's no picket fence holding you in, Dean. I can handle this on my own. I'm not keeping you from you life, from saving people. I won't ask you to give up your fight."

"I'm not giving up anything," Dean snapped back, "and I'm not going anywhere. But the next seven months are going to be hell because I plan on killing every evil son of a bitch that moves. Chase, you know as well as anybody that I'd rather be possessed than have any kind of domestic life, but I'm not leaving you, and I'm not leaving my kid."

"Kids, Dean." Chase replied slowly. "It's twins."


	11. Stronger

**Still waiting for the boys to show up on my door step. **

**So, this chapter is short, and the next chapter will be short. Sorry, but that's how it works out. But, on the bright side, I'll be able to have it up really quickly if I get reviews! And isn't that just the perfect motivation?**

* * *

"So, how is he?" Madison asked as Sam clicked the end button on his cell. 

"Decent." Sam dropped the phone onto a wrought iron table and sat down on the edge of Madison's bed.

"You're lying."

"Yeah." Sam laid back and put his arms behind his head. "He's really upset."

"About the pregnancy?" Madison slipped up beside him.

"No," Sam sighed, "About the fact that Chase was against telling him, and that she took such great lengths to get away from him." He frowned, "She underestimates him."

"Oh?" Madison rested her head on Sam's shoulder.

"He's not all bad. I mean, don't get me wrong, he certainly has his moments, but he's a good guy. She doesn't give him enough credit." Sam's frown deepened. He wasn't thrilled that Chase was back in the first place. No. That wasn't right. He was happy for his brother, happy that she had a second chance, but she shouldn't be here. And now she was two months pregnant? Yeah. Two months. What the hell was going on? She had been dead for two months. Dead people don't have kids. And then she up and leaves? Leaving Dean to fall to pieces yet again? And he was still having nightmares of everyone dying. Maybe he was the one without enough credit.

"Don't brood." Madison interrupt his thoughts.

"What?"

"You're brooding. Don't do it."

He laughed, "Easier said than done, Maddy."

"Dean's a big boy, he can take care of himself," Madison responded seriously. "And maybe Dean's not the only one not getting enough credit. Chase is freaked out beyond belief. You should have seen her…"

"Seen her what?" Sam prodded, hoping to get to the bottom of Chase's mental lapse.

"Break down." Madison took a deep breath. "I know I haven't really known her that long, but she never ever let any real emotion show. Desiree told me she's always been like that, even when her parents died, and Thomas, too. But for Dean, for everything that's happened, she was torn apart."

"So she runs?"

"How do you think she earned the nickname Chase?" Madison scoffed, "That's what she does. She runs."

"But why?" Sam practically growled. "Why run away from Dean? From what could keep her safe?"

"She's worried he'll all end up the way everyone else she loves did."

"Which is?"

"Dead."

Sam wrapped an arm around Madison's shoulders. "He won't."

"I know."

XxXxX

Chase stretched out in the creaking hammock behind her parents' house. She had to admit, even though she hated being back here, there was no place that could relax her more than her own little haven beside the lake. The breeze caused the water to lap onto the rocks, creating a quiet lullaby that easily lulled her into a daze, and the sun shone lightly, making everything glow in the early morning. She and her sisters had spent forever on this bank. Well, almost forever.

She closed her eyes and used a foot to swing the ropes back and forth. Dean had still been asleep when she had checked on him before her hunt. She hoped he would sleep a few more hours. It was obvious he was exhausted when he found her last night, and talking until dawn hadn't helped him at all. But things were better for it.

Dean was truly okay with everything. He seemed to actually want the children, to want to protect them, love them even. Yet, even though he was alright, she was still freaked as hell. There was no explanation to the two month old children inside her. She had been dead, and it was impossible. And while she was slowly, very, very slowly, getting used to the idea of being a…of having kids, she didn't know what to make of it all. Or if she should even try to make sense.

It would be so much easier if she could talk to someone who had gone through this before, but how many mothers had been resurrected? Oh, yeah. None.

"Chase?" Dean's voice was timid. A first, she swore.

"Morning," she answered, his nervousness echoing in her.

"I know we talked about a lot of things last night, but there was one thing we didn't hit. And I don't want to upset you, but…" He rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at the ground.

"What?" Chase asked quietly. It was obviously bothering him.

"You aren't…I mean…" he sighed. "I'm not going to have to waste anymore gas chasing you, am I?"

She burst out laughing. She didn't mean to, really, but his expression was priceless! "No, Dean. I'm going to stick around here." She scooted over on the hammock to give him room. "Would you seriously keep following me if I didn't?" she asked lightly.

"To the end of the Earth," Dean answered seriously before kissing her.

XxXxX

Rox ran a comb through her long hair. She was sick of all the emotionally charged clients she'd had of late. California was not good reaping. No matter what anybody had said.

"Roxanne!" a voice echoed through the dark walkways and into her chamber.

She unwillingly set the comb down and made her way through the darkness into a larger room lined with candles. In the center of the room was a raised dais on which stood a shallow basin of silver, murky water.

"Roxanne," the voice said again.

"Yes?" Rox lowered her head in respect for the man that stood on the other side of the room.

"I am disappointed that you have failed to see," he said regally.

"See what?" she asked.

"They will band together, Roxanne," his voice monotone but vivid at the same time. "They will band together to destroy us. We will not touch them."

Rox laughed, "With all due respect, I have seen, but it is a very different ending from the one you're describing."

Suddenly, another voice added itself to the room. "She's right, you won't touch them." There was a flash of light, and the man disappeared as his scream echoed around the room.

"It's about time," Rox snapped marching behind the dais and gazing into the water. "I thought I was going to have to kill him myself."

The yellow-eyed man came up beside her and looked over her shoulder, "Couldn't let you have all the fun."

She laughed, "I'm glad he's dead."

"Yes, you and your brother never did get along."

"Helenus was always the golden son and Cassandra the perfect daughter. What was I supposed to be?"

"Vengeful," his yellow eyes flared. "And you're very good at it."

"That I am," she grinned. "Now, let's see how that little bitch is doing."


	12. Undone

**Dean. Yum. Me. Not owning. Sadness. First episode of season three? Who the hell was that blonde chick? And, Kripke, if you're thinking of killing of Dean and letting some Jo look alike take his place…oh, let's just say you had best not. **

**Okay, people, stick with me here. Time has passed. This chapter is far ahead of the last one. TimePassed. Okay? Oh, and yeah, it's short, but the next one is kinda a big deal, so. Now, with that cleared up, onward! **

* * *

Chase wandered around the kitchen, opening and closing doors, loading and unloading the dishwasher, rearranging pots and pans all the while trying to find a way to keep her growing stomach out of the way. 

Six months down. Three to go.

Madison sat at the mahogany table at one end of the room holding tightly to her coffee cup. Chase always got like this right before the boys were due back. During months two and three she would hunt for long periods of time. Months four and five were spend swinging nervously in the hammock, and months six and seven consisted of cleaning and reorganizing every single room in the manor. Madison dreaded to see what month eight held.

"I'm hungry," Chase suddenly declared. "Are you hungry?"

"I-"

"Do you think Sam and Dean will be hungry when they get back? They normally are, but it's pretty late and I'd hate-"

"Chase," Madison pointed to the chair beside her, "sit."

Obediently, Chase sunk down in the chair. "I hate when you order me around."

"Then why do you listen?" Madison sipped the last of her drink and set the cup on the table. "You really need to relax, They'll be back soon, and they'll be okay. It was just a poltergeist."

"But those things can get pretty nasty, and I mean-" once again her rambling was cut short. This time by the slam of the door. "Dean," she said and was up and striding toward the front door.

Madison sighed and followed her at a slower pace. She was overreacting. They were back and they were fine. "Oh, please," Madison joked when she entered the foyer and found Dean murmuring to Chase's stomach.

"Hey, Maddy," Dean said offhandedly, "Sam's probably unpacking the car. Bitch got laundry duty," he smirked.

"Dean," Chase scolded.

Madison rolled her eyes, "He lose at rock, paper, scissors again?"

"No," Dean grinned, "He took the first hit."

"Sam," Madison whispered and walked out the door.

The pilot light from the car illuminated Sam's profile. "Hey," he smiled when he turned around.

"Hey," Madison repeated stepping into his arms. "How are you?"

"Been worse," Sam replied. "You alright?"

Madison sighed, "Chase has cleaned every inch of this house, Sam. Every. Single. Inch."

Sam laughed, "Must have been hard."

"It was." She sighed again and took his hand. "Leave the bags. I'm sure you're hungry.

"Yeah. It was a long drive. Dean wouldn't stop either. Not even for coffee." He allowed himself to be led back into the house.

"Oh," Madison turned to face him, "If you leave one speck of dirt on any surface and make her start cleaning again, I'll kill you."

XxXxX

"So it went okay?" Chase asked the tired hunter beside her.

"As okay as it could, I guess." Dean's eyes closed at the feel of her fingers against his skin.

"Hmm," Chase mused tracing his newest injury. "This is the worst one?"

"Yeah," Dean opened his eyes to look at the six inch long gash on his left shoulder. A lamp had been thrown at him. He was too busy looking for Sammy to notice the loft. "And you're okay?" Dean asked anxiously. He didn't like being away from her for one minute let alone one week. The worry was pointless, he knew she could take care of herself, and there was Madison, but still.

"I'm fine. I think Maddy regrets coming here, but other than that." She laughed lightly.

"Why do you say that?" Dean caught her roaming fingers in his own.

"I've finally cleaned the place. I don't think she appreciated me snapping at her all week about it."

Dean chuckled, "I'm sure she's fine."

"Yeah."

A comfortable silence settled over them. Dean pulled the thick blankets up around them and put his arm protectively over Chase's stomach.

"Dean?" she asked after a few minutes.

"Hmm?" Dean could feel his eyes closing. He really needed to sleep on hunts, but the motel's and diner food just didn't compare next to Stone Manor. Next to…home?

"When are you leaving again?"

He could feel her tensing, ready for a quick answer and an empty bed in the morning. "A day or two. Not far though. Virginia." He felt her nod and press herself closer to him. "Chase?" he asked a minute later.

"Hmm?"

"Are you really okay?"

"Yeah," she squeezed his hand, "I just miss you when you're gone."

Dean laughed, "You shouldn't."

"Yeah," Chase yawned, "You probably aren't worth it, Winchester." Seconds later her breathing was even.

"Yeah," Dean agreed quietly, "but you are."


	13. Waiting For A Girl Like You

**Disclaimer. **

**I know. It's about time, right. Well, I hope this didn't get too chick-flicky for you, but it's not over yet! I know, famous last words.

* * *

**She was jittery. Madison had been giving her the evil eye all morning, but she couldn't sit still to save her life. 

"Chase, I swear, if you keep bouncing around like that I'm going to kill you," Madison said evenly, "I'm not kidding, either."

"I'm sorry," Chase sat back in her seat, "I just need to get out, go do something…or something." She really had no interest in actually doing something, but she _felt _like she should be doing something.

"Yeah, well, you're one week from being nine months and you haven't been able to hunt properly in two. If you think I'm letting you around a crowd of people you should be put down now." Madison's eyes never strayed form the soap opera she was watching.

"I know," she sulked. She looked at the clock. It was one pm. Dean had said they would be home by noon. Sighing, she tapped her fingers on the arm of the chair. One hour late. "I'm going outside."

"Uh-huh," Madison mumbled, her expression changing from one of contentment to rage at Hope's unfortunate, televised circumstances.

Purposely crossing directly in front of the television and earning an angry growl from Madison, Chase left the room and wandered around the manor.

As much as she loved this house, most of the memories were painful. She stood in the doorway of what was now her (and Dean's, when he was here) room. It used to be her parents. Chase closed her eyes as warm, sunny mornings full of stories of the old life washed over her. Her mother loved to talk about Romania and how their kind used to be revered while her father rolled his eyes and played with her sisters in the background.

The next room was painted in bright blues and greens. In what was hoped to be a few days it would be occupied by two gurgling little girls. Chase touched her stomach fondly, She was still terrified by the idea of being responsible for two more people, but it was growing on her. It was really growing on her.

"Hey," came a soft voice behind her.

She smiled. "You're late," she reprimanded lightly as he came to rest a hand on her shoulder.

"I know. We got held up."

Her smile ceased. Dean had been giving her less and less details of his hunts lately. It was as if he was trying to shield her and the babies from everything bad. Unfortunately, it was already too late for that. "What was it?"

"Poltergeist," he answered off-handedly. "How are you doing?"

"Fine," she answered shortly.

"You don't sound fine."

"How's fine supposed to sound, Dean?" she snapped. She didn't need anyone's protection. No one needed to shield her from anything.

"Not like that. Hey," he said as she turned and walked back to her room, "what's going on?" He grabbed her arm.

"Nothing." Even she could hear the annoyance her voice held. Dean didn't seem to notice, he was too busy gawking at her.

"What?" she demanded.

"Why did you eyes change?"

"What are you talking about," she asked self-consciously touching the corner of her eye.

"They're yellow."

She took off down the stairs to the closest mirror. It hung on the wall near the front door and portrayed exactly what Dean had said. Her eyes were no longer her own. "I'm just hungry," she played it off, all the while trying to push the wolf back down. "Really hungry," she added when she couldn't make the color go away. She laughed nervously, "Explains my grumpiness."

The wrinkles on Dean's forehead gave away his cool demeanor. "Maybe you and Madison should head out for awhile," he suggested.

She shook her head, "I can't change. It wouldn't he-" the remark was cut short by her sharp gasp.

"Easy," Dean said helping her sit down on the floor. "What's going on? Oh," he realized a second after she did.

"Hey, Dean, I-" Sam paused in the doorway of the kitchen with a sandwich in his hand. "What's wrong?"

"Get Madison," Dean commanded his brother.

Sam nodded and ran off.

"Can you make it upstairs?" Dean asked, his voice lower than usual.

Chase nodded and allowed him to help her up. Cringing, she slowly made her way up the stairs with Dean right next to her.

"You planned this, didn't you?" Madison joked at the top of the stairs, "Right when I was about to find out if the kid was hers." She shook her head, "You have great timing, Stone."

"It's her sister's," Chase replied, "That episode was on-line last week."

Madison laughed, "I knew you were addicted," but her laugh ceased as Chase clutched her stomach. "Okay," Madison drawled, "Why don't you lie down."

"Shouldn't we get her to a hospital or something?" Dean asked as Chase settled in the large bed. Madison glared. "Okay," he conceded, "bad idea."

"Real bad idea," Madison mumbled. "Alright," she said a half-second later. "There's a box in the bathroom next to my room. We're going to need that."

"Anything else?" Sam asked heading out the door.

"Probably warm water. And cold," she added quickly, "but more warm."

Chase smiled her thanks when Madison turned back around. "I'm glad you're here, Maddy," she said, "really glad."

Madison grinned, "I know. Are you okay for a minute?"

"Yeah."

"Good." Madison gave Dean a pointed look before hurrying after Sam.

Chase kept her eyes at the door as it closed on Madison's back. She was trying to remember what Lilly had told her, but all she could come up with was Chris's quick laugh and the comment, "Dean's gonna have his hands full." Everything else was crowded by fear. She wasn't ready for this. Sure, she had been trying to prepare everything possible for this very second, but, hell, she was flat out afraid, and the cramps shooting through her stomach were not helping. She felt Dean grab her hand, and looked up into his anxious smile.

"This is going to be okay," he told her. But it sounded more like a question.

"Yeah," she answered just as unsure, "it's going to be fine." They were silent until Sam and Madison came back in the room.

"Well," Madison said, oddly enthusiastic, "that's that." She set a large box down beside a small nightstand.

"That's what?" Chase asked cautiously.

"We've got IVs, blankets, drugs, everything you might, but hopefully won't, need." She smiled, "Now relax."

"And do what?" Chase looked up from the box.

"Wait I guess." Madison sat down in a chair at one end of the room. I mean, how long can this take?"

"Famous last words," Sam commented from his lean against the wall.

¤

When Dean was nervous he couldn't stay still, and to say he was nervous would be an understatement. So he paced. From one end of the room to the other, much to the dismay of his brother and Madison, under Chase's ever watchful eye, he paced.

"Dean, could you give it a rest?" Sam asked rubbing his eyes.

"What, Sammy?" Dean snapped.

"You're making my head hurt."

"So sorry, Samantha. Can I run out and get you something for that?" Dean sneered.

"Jerk," Sam muttered.

"Bitch," Dean muttered right back.

"Boys," Madison snapped, "Both of you," she punctuated, "can give it a rest."

Sam rolled his eyes. Dean continued his pacing.

"You all should get some rest," Chase came out of the stupor she had been in for the past few hours. "Seriously. I'm fine. I'll call if I need anything." She sighed, "It'd be my luck this would take all damn day."

"'S not your fault," Madison stifled a yawn. "Plus, I don't want to leave you alone."

"She won't be alone," Dean sat on the edge of the bed. "I sleep here anyway."

Madison frowned, "I don't know…"

"Maddy, just go get some sleep," Chase commanded propping herself up. "I swear I'll call you if anything changes."

"Well," Madison glanced at Sam, "I guess. Just for a few hours."

Sam nodded.

"Okay," Madison stood, "but you had better yell if _anything _changes."

"Yes, ma'am." Chase saluted with a grin.

With a lost probing glance, Madison left the room. Sam followed behind. Chase's grin dropped.

"This sucks," she quietly admitted.

Dean laughed and laid next to her. "I bet."

"Are you going to sleep?"

"Doubt it."

"You should try."

"Don't think you can get rid of me that easy."

Chase laughed uncomfortably. "How hard I try."

"Mmhmm." Dean shut his eyes. He wasn't going to sleep, just rest. Chase needed him. He was just going to rest…

Something sharp was pushing against his wrist. Something very sharp. Dean jerked up with a start, leaving a trickle of blood in his wake. "What the hell?" he mumbled looking at the thin scratches. The sound of fabric tearing brought his eyes down, and Chase kept him there. She was twisting amongst the sheets, her nails digging into anything they could, and the glimpses he caught of her eyes showed him nothing but animalistic instincts. "Madison!" he yelled moving away from her just enough that she couldn't reach him with her hands.

"What's going on?" Madison stumbled into the room.

"I don't know."

Madison rushed over. "Chase," she said soothingly, "Chase, come on."

"What's happening?" Dean asked.

"What do you think?" Madison pulled a long needle from the box. "Can you grab her arms?" she asked.

Dean did. "What's that?" he asked after Madison had finished pushing what ever it was into Chase's veins.

"A mild tranquilizer. She'll hurt herself moving and clawing like that."

Chase gave a final shudder and quieted down.

"Can you hunt?" Madison asked after a moment.

"What?"

"Hunt. Can you? Like wild animal hunt."

"I guess. Why?" Dean asked.

"Because I'm guessing these kids are going to have two sides to them. And the way she looks, the wolf side is going to deal out before the human one."

"Which means?"

"They'll need a wolf mother for a little while. Chase hasn't hunted in three months."

"What will she need?"

"Find a deer. One should be plenty. Treat it like you're going to eat it. Just don't cook anything."

"Right," Dean stood. "Right."

"And be quick," Madison added. "Real quick."

It was a surreal sight. A fully grown wolf nursing two newborn pups in the middle of the charmingly decorated bedroom with only the occasional mewing interrupting the silence.

"Oh," Madison jumped up from her seat on the floor and grabbed a small blanket off the bed. On of the newborns was wriggling around, slowly growing. Madison gathered it up as it finished changing, and wrapped the child in the blanket. "Congrats," she whispered handing Dean the bundle, "Your oldest daughter."

Dean looked down at the small newborn. Her eyes were closed, and her tiny fist was groping for something to hold. The moment was so ironic, so dreamlike that Dean could swear he was, in fact, asleep, and that he would wake up in the next moment in some flea-bitten motel. But it was true. He was here, in a house, holding his child. His and Chase's. Hard to believe was understandable.

"And there goes the second." Madison stood up again and grabbed the second blanket. Grinning, she walked back over and handed Dean the youngest. "She's so little," she commented placing her in the crook of Dean's free arm.

Dean nodded. "They both are."

Sam shook his head. "I can't believe this."

"That makes two of us."

"Three," Madison added.

"Four." Chase pushed herself off the floor, and, with the help of Sam, back onto the bed.

"Come on, Sam," Madison said, "I'm exhausted."

Sam smiled at Dean. "See 'ya," and he followed Madison out, closing the door behind him.

"You okay?" Dean asked Chase sitting beside her.

"Uh-huh." She peered down at the two girls. "So that's it."

"Yeah." Dean couldn't take his eyes off the twins. His twins. His girls. Bizarre.

"You like them?" She reached for the hand of the younger child.

Dean laughed, "Yeah. I think they came out pretty good." He handed her the younger. "What are we going to call them?"

Chase shrugged, too captivated by the face of the baby to answer. After a few minutes she laid her head on his shoulder. "They are pretty good aren't they."

"Yeah. They are.


End file.
